The Sakuragi Cousins
by GeNo C. iDe1
Summary: What if Hanamichi REALLY is a Tensai and so is his weird family and his fav cousin? lots of family secrets, conspiracies and politics. on-going a bit HanaRu, HanaOC DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue to doom

Disclaimer: I don't own SD except for some OCs I've put in this fic. SD is owned by some Inoue guy who probably is a genius no doubt. (Nyahahahaha! Tensai!)

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

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PROLOGUE

The sunset drew out another one of its beautiful hue over the horizon. The colors gave such artistic effect on things yet it also carries with it a tinge of hopelessness. Such were the feelings of a little blond boy sitting all alone in a park, sobbing his heart out. Suddenly, a hand reached out from his back and there he saw the little boy with fiery head and piercing brown eyes.

"Oi, baka! You're crying again."

With that the blond boy stood up and faced the redhead who stood a head taller than he.

"Oniichan!" He gave out a cry, flinging himself to the taller boy.

The redhead didn't seem comfortable with their position as he squirmed a little from the young one's grasps.

"Stop calling me that, you baka! I'm not your brother. And stop clinging to me," he said, giving much irritation in his tone but failing at it miserably.

The blond boy kept crying in the arms of his so-called 'oniichan'. He didn't mind the insults. Actually, he didn't hear them. And even if he did, he wouldn't mind it anyway since it came from his 'oniichan'.

"Why are they so mean to you... to us?" he asked between sobs. " Don't they know they're hurting us? Don't they ever care?"

The older boy glanced down at his 'little brother'; sadness was in his eyes as he rubbed one hand on the back of the young one. Even though he seemed to show indifference towards the little boy, he knew very well that his own young heart was also breaking. He tried to be strong. Yes, he did. He hid all his pains and sorrows behind an arrogant mask. But the false facade soon crumbled down from the moment he gazed at those cheerful blue eyes. A gaze was all it took then a smile.

The redhead's thoughts were cut off when he heard him call. He looked down and met a pair of tear-streaked blue eyes pleading.

"Oniichan, p-promise me... oniichan, whatever happens... we won't forget each other. Promise me, oniichan, we'll meet someday and then we'll be together again whatever the circumstances may be..."

Red flames invaded the surrounding. The sun set itself to depart at any moment.

"Bakero!" muttered the redhead. " You always say the stupidest things!"

He placed his hands on the blue-eyed boy's shoulders, making a space between them. "Look, baka, stop moping around. We're supposed to be strong here. Do you think they'll be happy if they see you like that? They'll think you're weak and that's not true, right? Oneesan told me that we are strong and that it runs in our blood. So don't cry. I don't want to see you cry. You'll turn ugly if you do that all the time."

That realization earned a blush from the young boy, who wiped away his tears hurriedly. Life came back to his azure eyes once more. That and the young one's smile washed away the melancholic atmosphere.

"Hai, oniichan. I'm sorry I forgot. I promise I won't cry again. I'll be strong just like oniichan. And then someday we'll meet again, right? We'll be great by then!"

"Hahaha! Of course, baka!" he drew his arms akimbo. The blond shook his head and looked forward at the sinking sun.

"Hai! Because we're geniuses!"

The redhead raised an arm in the air, smiling at the sun that was leaving down the horizon.

"Oretachi wa TENSAI!"

-_-; TBC


	2. It's a start

Disclaimer: No, I am not going to repeat myself.  
  
Title: The Sakuragi Cousins  
  
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CHAPTER 1 : It's a start...  
  
"Ore wa Tensai! Nyahahaha!!" Sakuragi Hanamichi's laugh echoed throughout the court.  
  
"Hey, Hanamichi, nice shot!" Miyagi called, amazed at how Sakuragi had mastered his shooting abilities these past few months despite his back injury. A little more and he could almost surpass all of them in the team. That is if he could try to be more serious about practicing and stop running around bragging and singing his 'Ore wa Tensai' song. But then having Hanamichi like that would mean that hell had finally decided to freeze over.  
  
Hanamichi will be Hanamichi, the new captain of Shohoku basketball team thought with a sigh.  
  
While Hanamichi was, well, being Hanamichi, a certain raven-haired boy passed by muttering what he always mutters every time the redhead does something stupid.  
  
"Do'aho."  
  
"Nani, Kitsune?!"  
  
"Sakuragi-kun! Abunai!" Too late. Hanamichi twirled around just in time for the ball to hit him straight in the face.  
  
The game finally ended. Of course the yellow team, which includes Rukawa Kaede, won over Hanamichi's team, the red team.  
  
"Teme, Kitsune! You're not that good you know! The Tensai will get you next time!"  
  
"It's OK, Sakuragi-kun. You did well today and they only had one-point lead against your team."  
  
Sakuragi suddenly beamed at Ichiro who smiled at him reassuringly. "Eh, honto ni?"  
  
"Hai, Sakuragi-kun."  
  
"Hear that, kitsune?" He glared at Rukawa, pointing a proud finger at him. "This genius can take you down anytime. Nyahahahaha!"  
  
"Do'aho," came the silent reply.  
  
Sakuragi's loud revelry was abruptly cut off as a certain Paper fan of Doom fortunately or unfortunately (depending on whom it may concern) found its way towards his fiery head.  
  
"Stop laughing and start cleaning!" Ayako drew an arm akimbo.  
  
"Eee, Ayako! Why do you keep acting like Gori, ha? Maybe I should reconsider calling you Gori Lady."  
  
*SLAP*  
  
"Watch it, Sakuragi!" Miyagi threatened.  
  
*SLAP*  
  
"But Ayako, I was just--" Miyagi stuttered, almost in tears.  
  
"Go and clean with Sakuragi!" Once again, Ayako's commanding tone never seemed to falter even with Shohoku's new captain. Especially Shohoku's new captain, it being Miyagi.  
  
"Hmph.. Do'aho."  
  
*SLAP*  
  
"You too, Rukawa!"  
  
"Hahaha! Good for you, kitsune!"  
  
*SLAP*  
  
"Hey, why do you have to hit me thrice?!"  
  
After moments of shouting, bickering, fighting and slapping, the others finally decided to leave the three to clean up everything. Ayako threatened them that if they didn't clean the place properly, they'll have serious beating ahead of them.  
  
"Ryota, make sure these two troublemakers don't escape and please handle everything."  
  
"Hai, Aya-chan!" Miyagi nodded enthusiastically, earning pitiful glances from the two sophomores.  
  
Sakuragi sighed just as the door slammed shut. "So much for being captain."  
  
Rukawa inadvertently nodded in approval, still staring at the what-seemed- like-a-lovesick-puppy-wagging-his-tail-at-the-sight-of-Ayako who was none other than their small but terrible captain, Miyagi.  
  
Twenty seconds later...  
  
*poke, poke*  
  
"Oi, Ryochin?"  
  
Ten seconds later...  
  
"Oi, Ryochin, you're drooling on the floor!"  
  
Five more seconds...  
  
"Oi, BAKA!"  
  
*BANG*  
  
"ITEEE!" Miyagi nearly fell facedown on the floor when the mop hit him on the head, shattering his heart-shaped eyes and bringing him back to his senses.  
  
"DAMN YOU, SAKURAGI!! WHY'D YOU HIT ME ON THE HEAD?!!?"  
  
"Because you're drooling on the floor, BAKA!!"  
  
"Who're you calling BAKA, BAKA!!  
  
"YOU, shorty!"  
  
"Oh, YEAH!!"  
  
"YEAH!!"  
  
A fight ensued. Rukawa looked at them blankly muttering 'do'aho', then continued on sweeping the floor.  
  
It was about 6:30 p.m. when they finished their work. Miyagi and Rukawa left immediately while Hanamichi stayed that night. It became a habit of him to stay at court every night after practice, saying that 'The Tensai has to make up for the lost time.' Everyone knew of Hanamichi's little endeavor, but what they didn't know was that most of the time, Hanamichi would play up until the wee hours of the night. How he could manage in the morning claimed to be a mystery even to him.  
  
The only thing that could be heard in the dark was the sonorous banging of the ball constantly hitting the floor, if not the ring or the board. It's been like that for the past three hours, almost non-stop. There would only be very brief pauses after Hanamichi's shots, then it'd be back to loud thudding sounds and high-pitch screeching of shoes as he ran around the court.  
  
Sweat dripped like rain on his face while he kept dribbling the ball on his right hand. He saw himself face-to-face with Ryonan's Mr. Smiley Ace, Sendoh. He swerved to his right then to his left, avoiding an imaginary foe. He twirled around, maneuvering the ball gracefully and swiftly until he moved back and did a jumper.  
  
Three points. The ball went in unhindered, as if it's intelligent enough to not touch the rim. Hanamichi's tired leg shook in impact and he hardly knew that any normal person would have collapse that moment at the strenuous torture he had committed himself in to.  
  
He gasped for air like a fish in shore, his hands on his knees and his shirt wringing wet.  
  
"I'll show them all," he whispered as soon as his breathing steadied.  
  
He straightened up with a determined look, punching a balled fist to the palm of his other hand.  
  
'I'll show them. I'll show them all what the Tensai can do!'  
  
He quickly regained his strength, dashing to where the ball had landed. Dribbling the ball some feet away from the ring, he paused for a while, eyeing the ring intently.  
  
The ring. It was all that he could see for what seemed like eternity. Many times he has seen it. Heck, almost every day now since he started basketball.  
  
As if coming out from a daze, he recognized the sound of the ball getting louder and louder by the second. And then it finally dawned at him. An enigmatic feeling crept into his being, awakening his senses to his entourage; he momentarily felt a sting running down his spine. Without thinking, he took off, blindly heading for his goal. Every sound the ball made as it bounced off the floor sparked waves of memories, counting back from the challenges of Inter High games to the distant beginnings of the so- called genius, Sakuragi Hanamichi.  
  
/"Do you play basketball?"/  
  
He could still remember vividly the look on her face as she said that, a virgin blush tainting her lovely features. And that started it all.  
  
His life that was once worth nothing became relevant again.  
  
Looking back at seven years which had passed, he realized how empty his life had been. It wasn't always like that. It's just that, seven years ago, his life almost crumbled down. Thus he lost his goal, his reason to live that is.  
  
Only seconds had passed and he saw himself nearing his destination, his goal.  
  
He had finally come this far. Pulling it all out, this path which he had gone through, seemed absolutely impossible. He sometimes thinks of how his life would have been if he were not playing basketball. The thought just scares him. He could not possibly imagine life without basketball.  
  
No.  
  
Nothing could tear him away from basketball. Not now that he had finally found something he's worth at. Not now when he had found his dream.  
  
And he would pursue this dream. He vowed to surpass them all. Sendoh, Maki, Fujima, that Gori and especially that Kitsune.  
  
Nothing could stop me.  
  
Drawing all his strength for one last shot, he jumped floating magnificently through the air. He neared the ring for a dunk.  
  
Unless...  
  
*BANG*  
  
His mind raced again. A voice from the past echoed clearly in his mind as he successfully dunked the ball with his last ounce of energy.  
  
/"ORETACHI WA TENSAI!!"/  
  
He fell on his back as soon as he landed, panting viciously. He felt his body shake, drained physically, and that sting on his back came back on a revolt; but he ignored it, just as he ignored the doctor's advice. The words that have been working like magic for Hanamichi throughout all these years of sadness swirled comfortingly in his head. The words that gave him the confidence to laugh off problems and live with his dream.  
  
He opened his eyes and looked up dreamily.  
  
"Oretachi wa...," he said heavily between pants.  
  
"... tensai."  
  
***  
  
It was pass 10 already and a certain fiery head boy walked silently in an almost dark path, saved by dimly lit light post on every turn.  
  
After five minutes of rest, he decided to leave the court and call it a day. How he found strength was out of the question. He was, after all, the genius Sakuragi, known for his indefatigable stamina. But sometimes he also can't help but wonder how it could be biologically possible. ( -_-; is this Hanamichi talking??? oh, wait... it's me... gomen... -_-;;;)  
  
Was it because of his childhood training? He hadn't had any of those for seven years yet it seemed that some of his skills are finally coming back with a kick. Only this time he's using his strength in a different field.  
  
He then headed for a turn, whistling a tune along the way with his duffel bag swaying in his side. He was a meter away from the two-story apartment building where he lives when he saw a black car parked in front of his door. Shocked at the sudden familiarity, Hanamichi stopped in his tracks, hesitating to move and go check out who it was in his apartment.  
  
There was only one way to figure out the questions in his mind and that is to barge straight into his house and give the intruder a thing or two about trespassing.  
  
"I'll show those scums not to trespass in the Tensai's territory," he muttered under his breath while rolling his sleeves and heading towards the apartment. A strong nagging feeling gnawed at him as he was nearing the car and his apartment.  
  
Stopping at his doorstep, he was puzzled to see that the door was slightly ajar. He grabbed the doorknob and savagely banged the door only to be shock as an oddly familiar face greeted him inside.  
  
-_-;TBC  
  
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(~_~;;; ok, so here one of those editions. not yet done with the others but i'll work on with it....*sigh*) 


	3. The Visitor

Disclaimer : I don't own them...  
  
Title : The Sakuragi Cousins  
  
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CHAPTER 2 : The Visitor  
  
"Okaeri nasai, Hanamichi-sama!"  
  
A rather rustic voice greeted him. Hanamichi stood in shock at the old man in front of him.  
  
"Ki-kimi wa.." was all he stuttered. (-_-; what ? no, teme? boy, was he kind....)  
  
The old man chuckled cordially, his white hair swaying mildly to his involuntary movement.  
  
"Don't say you have forgotten about me, Hanamichi-sama? It has been years since we last saw each other." The stranger absentmindedly smoothed his hands over the front of his black formal coat. He then stepped one foot back, gesturing a hand pointing inside Hanamichi's little domain.  
  
"I have prepared a special meal for you. Please do come in immediately. I'm afraid the soup is getting cold." He beamed once again at Hanamichi who stared back befuddled.  
  
At last he found his voice again, uttering his disbelief.  
  
"Jeanteul?!"  
  
The old man laughed at the mention of his name. He nodded his head and looked up at him with that same pleasant countenance.  
  
"I don't think its healthy for you to stay beside the door. Please come in now and refresh yourself, Hanamichi-sama."  
  
Drawn out from his reverie, he nearly jolted back as he tried to grasp what was happening.  
  
"EEEE!! Jeanteul!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!" he shouted, pointing a finger at him, obviously freaked out.  
  
"Come now, Hanamichi-sama. We will talk later," he said, refusing to answer his question.  
  
Jeanteul, as he was called, proceeded inside with Hanamichi stumbling behind him.  
  
"Matte yo! Jeanteul!" They passed by the living room, turning right for the kitchen.  
  
"Oi, Jeante-" He stopped his rumbling when he saw the food on the table.  
  
In front of him were mouth-watering treats of various savor, from creamy garlic noodles, roasted chicken and steaming lobster chowder to super salad and strawberry filled cake. His saliva glands became overexcited; the excess product spilling on the floor.  
  
"Hungry, Hanamichi-sama?" Pulling a chair, Jeanteul smiled smugly.  
  
He abruptly came back to his senses, glaring at the white haired man.  
  
"No, I'm not hungry!!"  
  
Contradicting just what he said, a loud thunder-like growl was promptly heard.  
  
Jeanteul raised a brow. "Not hungry, eh?"  
  
Succumbing to the inevitable and obvious, much to his pride's disappointment, he dragged his feet towards the table, cursing under his breath about the Tensai being surrounded by blackmailing, dumbass freaks and about his family hiring a new butler, better yet a young sexy governess or maid. He ate, er.. devoured rather, the whole marvelous meal, choking now and then but nothing the Tensai can't handle. Hehehe...  
  
After that, he turned around to face the old man with his soup- smeared shirt, noodle-tangled hair (now, how did that got there?!), strawberry cream-filled mouth and -- hey, was that lettuce stuck between his teeth?  
  
Hanamichi grinned maniacally.  
  
(Yup. It was lettuce.)  
  
All the while he was gagging himself with delicious food and nearly dying in the process, he was actually THINKING (*gasp*), or wondering for that matter -- because being Hanamichi and all, 'thinking' is too deep a word -- about the sudden appearance of Jeanteul.  
  
***  
  
It sure had been years since he last met him and it was when his parents were separated. His father took him away from her for reasons he did not know then. Not until Jeanteul came when his father died of stroke when he was 14 and told him everything... or so he thought it was everything.  
  
He always knew that there was something wrong with his maternal side's family and having Jeanteul uncovering their secrets proved his theory correct.  
  
Yea, he was shocked. Shocked as hell as he found the truth about his older sister's death. And why his father was hell bent on getting him out of his mother's family. It was only then that he realized how his father loved him. He remembered the bewildered look on his father's face whenever he mentions his mother, the way he would rage whenever he would voice out his desires to see her and go back there. He remembered the way they would fight over it.  
  
Guilt gnawed at him whenever he recalls his father's agitated expression. Why hadn't he noticed the fear in his father's eyes whenever he raise his voice? Why was he such a fucking prick to him? Going as far as being a rebel, a delinquent? And how the fuck was he to know that acting like a belligerent bastard that he was would drive his father to his grave? Why was it that trouble always come whenever it's not needed?  
  
He could have saved his father. Knowing that fact only served much pain to him, much agony that he sometimes wished himself dead instead of his father. What kept him going though were the last words of his otousan.  
  
***  
  
He finally found his way to the hospital, barely keeping his balance because of the bruises he had acquired from those sorry asses who cornered him. From then on he kept note to beat them into bloody pulp once they meet again. And he did have the chance, between now and then.  
  
A neighbor took kind to bring his father to the hospital. He had never felt terrified in his entire life before. Not until then, when he was sitting uncomfortably near his father's deathbed, listening to his labored breathing.  
  
/"Ha-Hanamichi...b-be strong.. Live if you must. J-Just don't give up.."/  
  
For the second time, Hanamichi cried in grieve, knowing all too well that desolated feeling each time he loses his loved ones. He could have just crumble away in his misery but he didn't. He didn't want to disappoint his father. He wanted to atone for all the injustices that he had done towards his father. If all it takes is to live by his father's wishes, not more to himself but for those who are still living, then he will make his father proud. He is, after all, the Tensai. His heart and mind had been inured throughout his youth. He will not be shaken and he will live in exuberance as long as he feels that he is loved and needed by someone. Even from afar. And he knew all too well just who it is.  
  
***  
  
Deep sparkling blue eyes materialized before him while soft hands seemed to reach out to him. Hanamichi could not keep a smile from touching his lips at that certain apparition.  
  
Back to the present situation, he stared almost suspiciously at the poised man waiting with unending patience and grace beside him.  
  
He began to open his mouth, unsure of what to say. "Who--"  
  
"You're mother sent me here," Jeanteul, knowing exactly what's on Hanamichi's mind, prompted.  
  
Hanamichi gaped, memories of Jeantel's outstanding efficiency came full force.  
  
" Ow.."  
  
He paused.  
  
"And wha--"  
  
"She sent me here to see to it that you have moved safely to your new apartment." Again, the ever accurate butler prompted.  
  
Sakuragi Hanamichi could only blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. And stared dumbly at Jeanteul. Obviously, the message had not yet registered in his mind.  
  
The white haired man spoke once more. " The truck will arrive, " he stopped to look at his wrist watch, " after 15 minutes or so to pick up your things . We will leave for your new abode tonight, ASAP."  
  
Jeanteul sighed inwardly. For all he know it will take Hanamichi for a while to acknowledge everything that's been going on. Make that a LONG while.... Ok, let's add another LONG there...  
  
***  
  
Approximately 11:30 pm, Sakuragi's residence was buzzing with strange uniformed men, running in and out of his house carrying boxes and loading them in a small truck parked in front of the apartment.  
  
"No, no. The sofa won't be necessary. Leave the tables and chairs. As for the others, get them to the truck." Jeanteul's voice was the only thing heard other than the sound of furniture being moved. He shifted here and there, ordering, shouting and looking at this and that.  
  
Every minute or so, he would take a quick glance over the kitchen where a certain red head do'aho sat motionless like a statue. It's been over an hour since Hanamichi had been sitting there blinking and blinking and blinking and blinking and --(AAARRRRGGGHH!!! Can somebody tape those fucking eyelids???!! It's driving me NUTSSS!!!! AAAAAAAA!!!!)-- blinking.  
  
Jeanteul heaved another sigh, then looked pensively at his watch.  
  
It's about time, he thought.  
  
"10.. 9.. 8..," he whispered under his breath in tune with the second hand.  
  
"4.. 3.. 2..."  
  
Hanamichi's right brow twitched, the first sign of life, er... movement from the red head.  
  
"...1!" he said aloud, immediately withdrawing his hands to his pocket.  
  
As soon as Jeanteul announced the last number, a loud glass- shattering, ear-piercing, blood-curdling howl was heard, scaring the living shit out of a poor alley cat who jumped into a sewer upon hearing the scream, and nearly giving an old widow who live just upstairs a heart attack.  
  
"WHAT???!!! JEANTEUL!!!!!" And Hanamichi was back, eyes wide as saucer as he stared shock at the pleasant faced white haired man.  
  
"Well, Hanamichi-sama! Welcome ba--"  
  
Just as Jeanteul was to finish his statement, an old stinking tattered boot flew into Hanamichi's window and had contact with the do'aho's head, knocking him senseless.  
  
"Shut up, FREAK!! Some people are trying to get some sleep here, you moron!!" a far-off ragged voice shouted.  
  
Looking at the swirling eyes of the also known as 'do'aho', Jeanteul wave his hand in surrender.  
  
"Oww, nevermind..."  
  
-_-; TBC  
  
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(~_~;) * Jeanteul is pronouce as Shawn-tel. Major OOCs to come, though hopefully not. You've been warned. I'm still deciding about the pairings, or more important, should there be a pairing??? Damn... Why can't I write something about *shudder* love??? Much as I like it to be a RuHana fic, I still need some pretty darn coaxing.... so coax me... something, whatever... i beg you.... (;*_*) 


	4. The Excuse Slip

Standard Disclaimer Applied  
  
Title: The Sakuragi Cousins  
  
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CHAPTER 3 : Excuse Slip  
  
"DEFENSE!" Ayako shouted, her undaunted spirit soaring as always as she watched the team's performance on court.  
  
Miyagi and the other upper classmen have been practicing with the freshmen, testing their stamina and helping them sharpen their skills.  
  
"Kobayashi! Guard Miyagi!" Ichiro, who was beside Ayako, called upon one of the rookies.  
  
The boy named Kobayashi was somehow startled; nevertheless, he tried to block the captain's advances, only to be averted as Miyagi faked a right, passing the ball to Rukawa. As expected before any of the freshmen could stop it, the ball found its way to the ring effortlessly.  
  
"Rukawa-kun!" Haruko exclaimed, tiny hearts dancing around her head and in her eyes too.  
  
"Yosh! Rukawa-sempai! Eh, Kobayashi-san, nice try. That was good." Mizusawa Ichiro commented politely at his classmate.  
  
Kobayashi, a dark haired boy, scratched his head shyly. "Anou... domo, Mizusawa-san. But we lost."  
  
"It's OK," Ayako said. "What matters is that you've all been improving greatly."  
  
"And if that keeps up, we might lead ourselves to the Nationals," Miyagi intervened.  
  
"Hai, captain!" the freshmen chorused.  
  
"Anou, sempai, we thank you for helping us with our play. It's an honor to be a part of this team. Definitely one of the best in Japan, no less!" a rookie named Abe stepped forward.  
  
Miyagi slightly blushed in humble embarrassment, chuckling nervously for a moment. "Ha-hahaha... Well, you can say tha-"  
  
The door banged noisily, diverting everyone's attention towards one of the entrance.  
  
"Yo!" came the voice from the guy at the door. A mischievous grin plastered on his lips that was somewhere above a memorable scar. There on the mouth of the door stood the ex-MVP, ex-gangster and ex-shooting guard (whatever you call it) of Shohoku basketball team, Mitsui Hisashi. Right beside him was Kogure Kiminobu and Akagi Takenori, the former co-captain and captain of Shohoku basketball team respectively.  
  
"Hey, missed us?" Mitsui's grin widened as he approached Miyagi; a spark of amusement flickered in his eyes when he saw the surprised expression on the latter's face.  
  
Miyagi composed himself in an instant after seeing that sickening grin on the senior's lips.  
  
"Missed you?" Miyagi snapped back, sarcasm dripping his tone and person. He scanned quickly at the three prominent figures approaching, nodding almost imperceptibly at the two silent others in greeting before glaring back at Mitsui and adding a bilious statement at length. " Kogure and Akagi, most probably. But you? Hell, you're the last person I wanted to see, bastard!"  
  
"Why you ungrateful little punk!!!" growled Mitsui, dashing to the shorter boy and encircling an arm around his neck; a sadistic smile apparent on his face as he heard the strangled breathing, the almost dire outcome of his murderous intent upon the other, the shorter and supposedly stronger boy.  
  
Akagi, regarding the riot presented at their sight as a 'friendly' gesture, as the others had also regarded it so with a shrug, headed towards Ayako with an always pleasantly smiling Kogure tagging along behind.  
  
"Akagi-sempai! Kogure-sempai! It's so nice to see you again," greeted Ayako. "Oniichan, I thought you have classes today?" Haruko asked, walking towards the group.  
  
"Aa," Akagi prompted, not a bit surprised to see his sister loitering around the gym since she was wont to do so. "Supposedly, yes. But the teacher was absent so we took leave and decided to come here."  
  
" We heard that you'll be having a practice game against Ryonan next month. How's your practice going?" Kogure could not help but jump into the conversation.  
  
"Nothing could be better Kogure-sempai!" Ichiro cheerfully answered his question, glancing appreciatively afterwards at the new members. "Everyone's been improving, even the freshmen. I sincerely think Shohoku can make it to the Nationals again this time."  
  
Akagi merely nodded, giving subtle glances at the freshmen; his pleasures known yet impalpable to the naked eye. Silence settled upon them for some long moments; a forgotten question lingering eerily in the air. Even Rukawa Kaede who was sitting some feet away from the group cared to stop fiddling a basketball in his hand and looked at them as if waiting for a spectacle to occur.  
  
It was then when they heard Yasuda's shaky and startling voice saying, " Anou.. aren't we suppose to stop them by now?" They averted their gaze to what Yasuda was pointing at and saw two troublemakers indulge in their killing session: Mitsui still out for blood as he tighten his grip on Miyagi's neck and Miyagi looking pallid by the second, his face nearing the shade of blue. Everyone (excluding Rukawa, of course) sweatdropped and a nerve just popped on Akagi's head.  
  
"Aaaaghhh!! Mitsui, you bastard! Let go of me!"  
  
" No, I won't! Not unless you turn purple!"  
  
In a fight for dear life, well, basically breath itself, Miyagi raised both hands to his back, clutching what seemed to be Mitsui's head and banged the latter's forehead to his back, releasing him from the dreadful clutches of death, or suffocation.. or Mitsui, for that matter.  
  
"ARRGGHHH!!! Why you little prick!" Mitsui groaned, holding his aching head. " This is what I get for visiting you??!!"  
  
On the other hand, Miyagi was busy heaving up large gulps of oxygen to even retaliate back abruptly.  
  
" I never asked for you here!" snapped Miyagi after second of panting, temper rising to a good boiling point. And before a single drop of blood or cloud of dust could yet be seen on the clean floor of Shohoku basketball court, a tall, monstrous figure, which must have been perceived as heaven-sent by the onlookers (according to the relieved expression on their face), loomed before the two obnoxious boys, giving each a skull- breaking blow on the head; the action, having an infamous appellation of "Gori Punch", ceased the upcoming fracas.  
  
" But he started it!" Miyagi practically (*choke*) squealed, pointing at Mitsui.  
  
" Oww. really now?" Mitsui mocked, sounding like some utterly sickening sissy girl. " Aren't you going to stomp your feet, run home and tell your mom?"  
  
" Yeah, I wi-- NO!! MITSUI! Grrrr!! I'm gonna tell mo-- AARRGH! DAMN YOU MITSUI!!!"  
  
" Boy is he hopeless," Ayako commented; the others could only laugh nervously.  
  
" But Aya-chan, I was just--"  
  
" Gonna tell your mom?" she finished.  
  
" Yes. I MEAN NO!! Aya-chan!" Miyagi cried inwardly, weeping at the thought that his Aya-chan could be so harsh to him.  
  
*SLAP*  
  
" Ryota! BEHAVE!"  
  
" Ha-hai, Aya-chan!" he instantaneously beamed, giving a good imitation of a dog being pat by Ayako on the head while saying, "Sit, Miyagi. Sit. Good boy, Miyagi! Good boy. Here, have some doggie treats." Get the picture?  
  
The former captain of Shohoko team sighed, embarrassed by Miyagi's outright submission displayed in front of everyone. " This is humiliating."  
  
" Don't worry captain. We're used to it." Yasuda consoled.  
  
" Hmmm. something's not quite right here?" Mitsui looked around critically. He felt it from the moment he had set foot on the gym but had chosen to ignore it. And the flow of normality seemed to promote that awkward intuition. Mitsui scanned the room carefully once more.  
  
" I know. It's your face that's not right here."  
  
" Ryota!"  
  
" Hehehe. Gomen, Aya-chan. Ehehehe."  
  
Mitsui momentarily threw deathglares at Miyagi before indulging back to his previous thoughts which was currently irritating him to no extent mainly because of the fact that he could not point a finger at it. There was something utterly wrong with this picture, something missing, something like a certain--  
  
" Where's Sakuragi?"  
  
BINGO!  
  
Mitsui violently turned to look at Akagi, almost breaking his neck as he nearly twisted it to a good 180 degrees.  
  
" No wonder it's quiet here," Kogure said. " Is there something wrong with him?"  
  
" Everything's wrong with that do'aho."  
  
Everyone jumped at the sound of Rukawa's voice. This was probably the first time he spoke that day, not really strange though. But this is Rukawa Kaede we dared to speak of. Rukawa Kaede DOES NOT WILLINGLY jump into conversation unless he was to insult the do'aho; other than that he would normally indulge in his usual silence.  
  
" Rukawa-sempai?" Ichiro whispered, looking confused at the raven haired boy who now stood a few feet away from them, holding a ball with both hands and staring down at it intently with an undeciphered expression on his face.  
  
" Ah!" Ayako exclaimed, tearing her gaze away from the weirdly acting Rukawa. " Anou.. sempai, gomen nasai. That baka must have decided to skip practice today. Don't worry. I'll see to his punishment tomorrow."  
  
" Aa," was all Akagi said, nodding slightly and averting his gaze. Something was definitely not right. SAKURAGI NEVER MISSES PRACTICE; the fact making everyone seemed tense.  
  
" But Ayako-chan, Sakuragi-kun NEVER misses practice!" So the horrible Haruko just have to rub it in, doesn't she? (*grrr. Author holds up a voodoo doll that looks just like the little trollop while piercing it with various sharp object and saying quite dryly, " Die, Haruko. Die." *) Her brother flinched at the bad timing.  
  
Just then the door of Shohoku basketball court opened, less noisily this time (much to Miyagi's relief) and four distinct figures came entering the premise.  
  
" Hey!" Youhei greeted, waving a hand at them.  
  
" Oi, Youhei!" Mitsui greeted back, grinning widely at the said boy. " And the others. How's it going?"  
  
" Others?!" Ookusu retorted indignantly. " Is that how you greet us? Guess the bad senior never changed."  
  
" Hmp! Shut up!"  
  
" Seems there's a reunion going on here," Youhei commented, ignoring the petty argument.  
  
" You can say that," Kogure politely answered.  
  
" Anou, Youhei-sempai," Ichiro began. " Have you seen Sakuragi-kun? Where is he? Did anything happen to him?"  
  
" Hey, slow down kid," Takamiya said. " And no, we haven't seen Hanamichi today. Second, we have no idea where he is and lastly, what could possibly happen to him? Hopefully nothing but then we're also here to find out."  
  
" What do you mean?" Miyagi asked, cocking up a brow.  
  
Youhei raised his hand, holding up a piece of folded paper. " Our adviser requested us to give this to you since your captain of the basketball team and all. He said it's an excuse for Hanamichi coming from the principal's office. Here, read." He gestured the paper towards Miyagi.  
  
As if Youhei was delivering a bomb, some of the members paled up a bit. It was evident that none could comprehend what was going on and surely, it was the strangest thing that had happened in Shohoku's basketball team. 'What's going on?' they silently asked but none uttered the dreadful question.  
  
" I'll take that," Ayako bravely cut in through the tense atmosphere, grabbing the letter from the black haired boy. She hastily unfolded the piece of paper, trying hard to cover her fidgeting hands by her abrupt movement.  
  
It's from the principal's office alright, thought the perplexed young manageress.  
  
" Aya-chan." Miyagi looked at his beloved Ayako's face intently; so did everybody else. She wore a scowl as her eyes scanned the first part of the paper. A tinge of vexation grazed her fine features and it grew to a visible extent as she continued down the page. Her eyes showed an uncharacteristic bewilderment when she finished reading and began to stare pensively at nothing in particular.  
  
" What is it, Ayako?" Akagi inquired, a hint of concern on his voice.  
  
" What's wrong? Did something happen to Hanamichi?" Noma seconded the same notion. The rest have been anxious for her to speak. Even Rukawa seemed to be moving closer within ear range.  
  
As if out from a daze, Ayako jolted back to life. " H-huh?" she stuttered, her puzzled expression vanishing, replaced now by a relieved one. " Ow, nothing's wrong. I guess. It's just a notification that Hanamichi will be out on a leave for school for about a week or two."  
  
" WHAT??!!"  
  
*SLAP*  
  
" Don't shout on my ear, Ryota!"  
  
" AHHH! AYA-CHAN!! GOMEN NASAI!"  
  
" So the stupid truant's on vacation again. The lucky bastard." Mitsui chuckled to himself.  
  
Loud buzzing sounds were heard afterwards from the members. Some gave out their relief; others who have been closely acquainted with the redhead expressed their concerns while a few kept quiet, either they don't have any idea what's the big fuss about or they're just too arrogant to admit that they DO CARE. a lot, I should say.  
  
" That baka never told us!" Takamiya muttered at the three gundan, sounding angry.  
  
Kogure heard the fat one and was quite shocked. " What? I thought you guys knew."  
  
" Unfortunately, we didn't." Much as Youhei wanted to hide it, his disappointment surfaced a little, yet not too evident as to be seen by many. " He never said anything about this."  
  
" Don't you think something's wrong with Sakuragi-kun?" All eyes fell on to the female voice which was Haruko's.  
  
" He looked normal yesterday," said a sophomore who was in Hanamichi's class.  
  
" Hmph! The baka. I couldn't possibly think of him in any other way. Who could possibly think of him in any other way?"  
  
" Hahahaha! You're right, Gori!"  
  
*POW*  
  
And Takamiya was sent sprawling on the floor with an impressive mark on his head.  
  
" Urusai!"  
  
" Hey, Youhei-sempai. Didn't you say this came from the principal's office? Then who informed the principal about this? And doesn't anybody know what's going on with Sakuragi-kun?"  
  
" Come to think of it, Ichiro's right." Ayako scanned the letter once more. " Didn't your adviser tell you anything?"  
  
" Nope. Nothing," came the brief reply.  
  
" Very well, I don't think you should bother yourselves with this too much. You should focus more on your practice right now."  
  
Miyagi smiled at Akagi's statement. " Yosh! You heard that. I've no doubt that Sakuragi would come back and start being a prick as always. But as of now, we have to concentrate ourselves on the upcoming game." He started to give morale boast on the members, pushing aside the latter topic of Sakuragi Hanamichi.  
  
The gundan seemed to settle themselves comfortably among the crowd, listening and even cheering for the members, all except for Youhei who never took off that unusually silent yet brooding self. At a glance, he looked normal, quiet than usual but normal no less. He asked Ayako if he could read Sakuragi's excuse slip and the manageress conceded, instinctively knowing and sympathizing for his worries.  
  
Not that he totally knew Hanamichi; everybody thinks that he's so easy to read, that he's just some goofy, hot-headed, simpleton and that there couldn't be any depth in him. Unfortunately, he could say that they're somehow wrong. They haven't been with Hanamichi long enough to know, or more accurately stated, notice his other self. And that side of Hanamichi appalled him for reason he himself can not describe.  
  
Safe enough to say, Youhei hadn't had any formal confrontation with Hanamichi's 'depths'.  
  
Nevertheless, he was sure enough of it; he had actually seen it surfacing from the redhead's face rather than hearing it from him. That day when he saw Hanamichi in a very different angle seemed to have etched itself on his mind.  
  
***  
  
It was one fine day in their junior high and as was the way of life, the gundan proceeded merrily with their delinquency. At that time, Hanamichi was sulking because of a successful 45th rejection. As tradition, the gundan took it as a celebration. And as celebration came, so were headbutts. That gave them cue to cease their taunting, leaving Youhei, a no less than a caring friend, to console the fuming youth.  
  
He heaved up a sigh before deciding to pull the door open. It would be hard calming down Hanamichi but he couldn't just stand there and watch him in misery like that. Sure they made fun of him, but that was just to momentarily divert the redhead's emotion to anger, so to forget his heartache.  
  
Well, that was what Youhei perceived his intentions to be; he didn't know what's it for the others. Heedless of what the reasons maybe, he was definitely thankful for their taunting. He hated seeing Hanamichi sad. Drawing his anger made them relieved in a subtle way.  
  
Youhei had stepped forward and raised his head to search the room for a familiar blob of red which was definitely not difficult to find considering that Hanamichi was the only one in Kanagawa with that certain peculiarity. He stopped dead on his tracks as he set his eyes upon the figure at the end of the row nearest to the window. It was a blob of red alright, though he was not certain if that was Hanamichi sitting there with a hand supporting his chin and having that uncharacteristic look on his face as he stare outside the clear blue horizon.  
  
He looked like Hanamichi; only this one didn't seem to be the hot- headed, readable friend of his that would pound anyone who insults him and chase girls like there's no tomorrow. If anything, he looked so. serene and his hair seemed silky soft, swaying and framing his serious figure almost seductively. But what caught Youhei was the glint on Hanamichi's eyes, something he had never seen before and had never thought of seeing from him. It was a nondescript glint of calmness mixed with a bizarre atmosphere of sadness and pure longing emanating from his entire being.  
  
It felt like eternity had elapsed; Youhei continued to stand there by the door, mind swirling and totally oblivious of his surrounding. There was something in Hanamichi's countenance that bothered him, that alienating expression that made Youhei drop everything he had ever believed to be Hanamichi. Also there was this unspeakable dread that was creeping up to his spine, that appalling notion that he felt as he saw the reticent face of Hanamichi.  
  
A blur of phantasmagoria appeared before him, extending a gap between him and the stranger by the window. The stranger was Hanamichi, no doubt; and the recognition further agitated his fear that he did not notice he was actually holding his breath.  
  
Youhei only gaped, shock rendering his entire body weak and stationary. Hanamichi was so far away. He wanted to shout at him but he couldn't; he wanted to reach out, but for some strange reason he was afraid to do so. That if he were to reach out, Hanamichi would suddenly disappear from his sight.  
  
Not a moment lingered when he conceived the fog intensifying from his sight. Tears were welling up from his eyes and were threatening to break free. He tried to blink them off and then kicked himself mentally for harboring nonsensical emotions.  
  
He opened his eyes, but there it was again: Hanamichi sitting by the window looking somewhat desolated and fragile yet strong and intact; silent agony screaming from his very being.  
  
Hanamichi. He thought of his name.  
  
What happened next seemed like a dream to him. Hanamichi turned to his direction, bearing still the placidity and puerile innocence that was undoubtedly his but not with the same brashness of his youth; instead, those lovely brown eyes flashed wisdom coming from hidden sorrows.  
  
Youhei's throat was clogged. He had heard him; he had said his name out loud. How Hanamichi had heard him through their distance didn't matter. He hardly noticed that they were the only two inside the classroom and that you can almost hear a pin drop through the silence. What more of a soft utterance?  
  
" Youhei."  
  
A whisper. It was a bit husky, soft and soothing, a bit inquiring and somehow startled. He sounded much like his expression, his innocence never wavering for a moment.  
  
They stared at each other. He had lost count of the seconds passed. As fast as a flick of a finger, that enigmatic glint on him faded, resuming his usual idiotic innocence, not a trace nor hint of what was once there a moment ago.  
  
" Oi! BAKA! What are you gawking at?!"  
  
Youhei was taken aback. A major part of him wanted to sag in relief. The Hanamichi who was sitting there a while ago unnerved him. He could not say why though, but he earnestly hoped that this will be the last time he would have of it.  
  
" N-nothing." He finally choked out, trying to hide his fear from him.  
  
***  
  
Youhei never forgot that instance in his life. Every time Hanamichi would feel discomforted or down, he would always be terrified, afraid that that side of Hanamichi will lash out and devour the redhead's being, closing him away from the others. It has been years now since that incident but Youhei was still alert. He had a premonition that it will inevitably come out one day. Hanamichi's depths will show up and hopefully, how he had prayed for this, it will not create an impossible distance between him, or them, and Hanamichi; nor will it make him disappear or something of that sort.  
  
He knew he sounded crazy. That cryptic side of Hanamichi was making him paranoid. He looked so reserve, so close, so unreachable and unreadable which were all definitely un-Hanamichi-like characteristics; it made him think how little did he know of his best friend.  
  
As he watched the basketball practice together with the other gundan, he did his best to stifle his shudders and to fake a normal facial cast. He can not afford to show any other sign of emotion, less he wanted someone to know of his pathetic worries regarding Hanamichi's inner side. It would be best if he was the only one who knew since he couldn't verify it as of now.  
  
He still couldn't figure out what it was and as time goes by, a tiny voice in him grew louder and louder; a question he had dreaded to entertain became clearer and persistent. He didn't know when will he pop that question to Hanamichi.  
  
Probably soon. he thought.  
  
He let himself be distracted by the banging of the ball in Miyagi's hand as the short captain drove through the freshmen's defenses suavely.  
  
Yes. It will be soon.  
  
The small point guard sped under the goal and delivered a lay-up with a gentle swosh.  
  
What is it that you're hiding, Sakuragi Hanamichi?  
  
-_-;; TBC  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
(~_~) Sorry for the major delay. There were some deliberations and a whole lot of distractions and technical difficulties encountered while doing this chapter. Hell- I mean, school had finally broke loose and you know what I mean. *sigh* To those people who even bothered to read my fic, I sincerely express my deepest gratitude. Same goes for those who gave me their reviews, either their purpose were to cheer me up or to keep me wondering (?). About the pairings, I know there's a bit of YouHana in here but it couldn't be helped. Well, probably it could be helped but I refuse to. hehehe. RuHana, you may ask? I have no idea how to start it but I'll try. neway, sorry for the grammatical errors. English is not my best subject nor is it my native language and I did this in a hurry so kindly bear with me. ok, see ya. (;*_*) 


	5. Transition

Disclaimer : Blah blah blah... you know...

****

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

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CHAPTER 4 : Transition

Hanamichi slumped down exhaustedly at the cool silky sheets of his huge bed, groaning miserably and with evident strains. He turned to his stomach and crawled weakly to the center, his head narrowly missing the mountain of pillows above him. 

But he didn't mind; the bed was soft enough and he was just terribly worn out and confused to even adjust himself to a more convenient position. Needless to say, he wanted to take a break. From school, from basketball (really? strange...), from fighting and practicing, from everything, and most especially, from all the vexing hubbub that has been going on since Jeanteul's mysterious appearance last night. 

Burying his face on the silky sheets, he tried to dissuade himself from thinking further.

_Damn! _

He swore, in the name and sacredness of basketball, that from the past seven years or so of his life, he had not thought of anything else as deep and grave as this. Well, actually, he wasn't sure of the time interval. But then why should it concern him? The predicament he's in can not allow him to think of such petty notions. By God! And he wonders why matters relating to his collateral almost always never fail to make him think deep thoughts on almost everything, regardless of the triviality involve. So he acknowledge that being generally vague was better than being specifically false; therefore, to be more chronologically sure, he restated that he hadn't been thinking much in the past few years (he pertains to the time interval).

His eyes were irritating him; mainly because he had not slept a wink last night from too much thinking (and one would wonder why his head did not explode). Heaven knows how he tossed and turned until 5:00 in the morning, unable to attain the slightest joy of sleep, heedless of his large and very cozy bed. Actually, call it modesty of some sort, the bed was just too large and too cozy for his now overly sensitive taste. Not only his bed, but the whole damn room was simply too much for him to take. He felt like he was laying on a vast field and that the entire ceiling seemed to loom threateningly over him. 

He was dizzy from looking up, but still his consciousness persisted up to 7, the official hour of waking up. And so started the whole day with Jeanteul, as if from a de javu or a nightmare from Hanamichi's past, came marching to his room, yanking aside the curtains to let the piercingly blinding daylight pass through, pulling his covers nonchalantly and almost literally dragging him down to the lower floor of his apartment for a healthy (I wouldn't count for it) morning breakfast.

If the person who had done all this, and add up that he had strapped him to a chair at the breakfast table because the young grumpy lad refused to substitute maple with honey, or who, in a vicious attempt to cleanse the overly reacting and reluctant red head, nearly drowned him in the bathtub filled with fragrant bubbles (with the red head insisting and whining that no man in his right sense would want to smell like a girl since that was the fragrance he had associated with the bath), or the person who took the pain-- mainly this was felt on Hanamichi's part -- to literally dress him up in sole purpose to make him look more of a noble creature rather than the savage that he seems to be: if he were not Jeateul, that person concern would have been, no doubt, absolutely dead by now. 

He didn't go to school that morning for they went to some office to arrange what Jeanteul had continuously stated along the way as 'his' papers; so he had to sign them and properly acknowledge them with his presence. It definitely surprised him when that smug old man-- may it be his character to vex Hanamichi out of his wits or it comes with the job-- nonchalantly said that he, Hanamichi, was to go to Okinawa for more or less than a month's visit.

Though these were almost the exact words the old man had given him, his interpretation drove him in a different perspective; a more foreboding light on the statement: He was to go see his mother, AGAIN. He was to go _back _to Okinawa where his mother had been residing all these years.

He stifled a groan underneath the sheets and tried to grab a pillow from above him to cover his head which was throbbing painfully. He badly needed aspirin.

After banging his head on the mattress ten times -- and finally deciding it was useless so he tried the floor--, groaning for a hundred and cursing for who-knows-how-many-coz-I-lost-count-of-them times, he willed himself to stand up and head for the bathroom.

The journey from the bed to bathroom was like travelling from baseline of the back court to the other of the forecourt or possibly more. And if he were to walk on the right wing of his room, he would literally have to travel from baseline to baseline in order to get to the other side since the right wing really IS a basketball court!

Hanamichi was deeply overwhelmed, speechless even, when he saw that his new apartment was in the new 12 story building that had appeared suddenly in their district. A lot of people had been wondering about the purpose of the structure; mostly they'd thought of it to be some elegant office but it looked too comfortable for office use. Then it showed itself to be some stylish condo unit, with them occupying the whole two floors from the top. And what's more is that each floor would be equaled to the size of about six times that of Shohoku's sports hall. To top it all, his room occupied half of the top floor with a real court and complete basketball accessories.

Most definitely none in the whole Kanagawa or probably the whole of Japan, less he be a super rich basketball fanatic, has had this outstanding privilege of having a real basketball court in his room, nor has anyone in a thousand (and to think that this may be a numerical understatement) had as much luck conceived overnight. 

But there were of course setbacks he had to deal with. Like being eternally lost in the sea of thoughts and perplexity which being Hanamichi, the simple idiot that he was suppose to portray, renders him almost incapable of coping with the situation. But thanks to his 'Ore wa Tensai' song that he kept in mind and constantly sang whenever he felt the need to, he was able to maintain his confident bearing and comical stunts throughout that morning.

Also the catch includes the fact that he hadn't had a decent sleep for about 48 hours, thus the reason for his headache.

He staggered on his way across the room to where the bathroom and the closet were located. After he accidentally hit himself with the door while opening it, then cursing, shut the door fiercely, the main door cracked open.

***

"K'so!" Hanamichi shouted out loud inside the bathroom. 

The search for the needed aspirin could be considered chaotic, as well as painful and, well... this is Hanamichi we're talking about after all. Neway, to cut the story short, he somehow got himself pathetically tangled in some clothes rack and while struggling vainly to get out, he knocked himself silly on another clothes rack, further inflicting him more than before. Then after releasing himself from all those garments, he literally got lost from the sea of mess that was his closet. He couldn't think of anyone to blame for his misfortunes so he vent it on whoever had thought on making his closet this big and setting the bathroom somewhere inside the closet. A half an hour later, he finally found the stupid door he was looking for on the spot where he, in his blind rage, threw all the clothes together with the rack, blocking the door out of sight. How'd he found it? He was pacing irritably back and forth and tripped himself on the rack, colliding with the unsuspecting door itself. 

From the moment he had set one foot inside the bathroom, he thought he wouldn't have as much bad luck as then. Not actually.... He set his other foot on the shimmering white tiles and that got him slipping on the floor, switching off his senses for a while. He thought he was blind when he woke up. Everything was stark white and being as, er, slow to comprehend as Hanamichi (*I can't believe I'm saying this to Hana-kun*), he actually thought he was dead. That was until he stumbled on the bathtub did he finally realized his entourage. He hadn't remembered it to be there. He hardly ever remembered this place since that morning his mind was preoccupied on thinking whether he should bash Jeantuel's head or not. So he hadn't paid attention on what the bathroom looked like.

He began to look for the medicine cabinet, condemning his headache as he left puddles on the floor. At last he found it. He proceeded to open the full length mirror only to be faced by what seemed like hundreds of little bottles containing stuffs he didn't know. There were pills, liquid substances and creamy white things. Each were labeled but Hanamichi got so frustrated to even bother to read that he decided to bang his head on the tiles and to his relief, the headache was gone. 

He stepped out merrily from the bathroom, kicked the rack that had caused him much pain then headed for the door to be knocked again on the head. Just his luck, the headache came full force. Now do you really think he'll bother to go back? ..... Nah! Really now?

***

Hanamichi slept his headache as soon as he had returned from his mishap adventure inside the bathroom. It was half past ten when he woke up. A little too early for him to get up since he's been stressed all throughout the day. Yet that short rest seemed to have revived him enough.

He adjusted his eyes to the partially lit surrounding before settling his feet on the carpeted floor. He went to the kitchen to grab a bite, then afterwards, went back up to his room, careful not to make too much noise along the way.

Balls that were once scattered across the room were now placed neatly in a basket along a sideline. It must have been Jeanteul, for who else? He haven't seen that pleasant faced woman who had served them this morning come in his room; and definitely it couldn't be that strange driver whose face he had tried to get a glimpse only to be averted continuously: thus he only saw his back.

Feeling his half renewed strength, Hanamichi decided to spend sometime playing basketball before he could continue the remainder of his sleep. It was a cold night, making Hanamichi's polo shirt dampen with cold sweat. A half an hour had passed when he aimed for his last three-pointer, and due to his rebuking fatigue, the ball hit the ring instead and bounced away to the other side of the room.

Before Hanamichi could run after it-- because he was feeling dizzy at the moment-- the ball rolled and toppled over an unmoving table and its contents. It took him some seconds to gather up his wits, then groaning, he went lazily over the scattered things. Hesitantly, he picked them up, cursing everything and the stupid ball. It was then in the middle of another batch of rude curses when he noticed a picture frame laying among the debris.

There wasn't anything really special or outstanding about the picture frame, nor was it made of gold and diamonds to make Hanamichi's eyes seem to widen marginally in an expression of amazement, surprise and... affection.

Slowly yet surely, he reached out a hand to touch the frame, caressing it as if finding out if it were for real. He picked it up.

A warm smile greeted him. Actually there were two smiles that were there, but he already knew too well of the other one; it being a five year old boisterous redhead whom he could not be mistaken.

The other one was a smile he had not seen for a long period of time; nevertheless he had kept the memory of it somewhere in the very depths of his heart and mind.

"It was you... wasn't it?" he pointed a finger at the picture, bestowing it with a soft wistful smile that was only reserve for the blue-eyed boy in front of him. He drew the picture to his chest affectionately, reveling on any imaginary warmth it could give him.

"Baka... You brought me here..." 

Usually any retrospection involving his family gives him insufferable sadness and remorse. This though was one exception to the rule. He kept 'his memory' in him.

"You miss him, don't you, Hanamichi-sama?"

Jeantuel startled him. He turned around, not feeling the urge to bash the old man for his sudden intrusion. It was more of his tiredness and giddiness that rendered him to shut up, so he resolved to give the old man a mild (not maniacal, mind you) smile.

"I decided to place this picture in your room," said he, moving towards the uncharacteristically benevolent-looking redhead. "I noticed that you didn't have any picture left with you, so I have thought of giving mine instead since I don't think I'll be needing it now."

Sincerity touched those wrinkled features. Hanamichi was moved beyond words. He nodded his head in gratitude; that was all that he could think of doing. 

"You should go to sleep now, Hanamichi-sama. We have a long day ahead and don't forget we have to prepare for Okinawa tomorrow. Goodnight," he then proceeded for the door. He was already in the door when Hanamichi's voice stopped him.

"Anou... Jeantuel.."

"Yes, Hanamichi-sama?"

"Will he be there?" There was a struggle in him, the old man could tell.

Truthfully, the dedicated man answered, "I'm afraid he won't be there." 

The sadness was evident in those expressive eyes, but Jeantuel was quick to console.

"But I'm not so sure either. I've heard from your Aunt Veronica that some of your cousins had returned to Japan recently. And there seemed to be a reunion going on in the household and probably that's one of the reason why you're being called to Okinawa. But I reiterate that I am not really sure of the information I've heard. You know it's not my business to mingle too much with the family affairs unless I am directly needed and informed. I hope that satisfies your question."

"Aa," Hanamichi replied absentmindedly.

"Oyasumi nasai, Hanamichi-sama." and he closed the door, leaving the fiery head boy with his own thoughts.

***

The basketball team of Shohoku high continued on with their usual practice. Together with Akagi, Kogure, Mitsui and other former seniors, they helped the team prepare for the upcoming game with Ryonan. Even so the day seemed long for them. 

They played along with an eerie silence. It was unexpected though; having the redhead absent was not such a drag back then when he was out for a considerably long time. He had an excuse then. Unexcused absences would only cause captain Akagi to pop a vein or two and some painful head punch for the redhead the next day. That only for a day of absence; but this one's different and it definitely extends more than a day. It was for a week or two. And what's bothersome is that no one knows where or why he's gone.

Hanamichi had been away for some months already because of the Sannoh accident and his return brought great joy for the team. Afterwards, Rukawa Kaede came back from the All-Japan team. Nobody knows why he came back, but then why question? For as long as the two were there (and so long as they can keep a safe distance from each other), the team has another chance to win it all on the Inter-High and probably, the Nationals. An incredible transformation though has happened: the two rivals, after the Sannoh incident, had strangely manifested, only in very minimal circumstances, a certain unspoken teamwork or bond (if you must call it). Of course, the usual brawl was there, occurring every minute or so; but there also was that bond that seemed to ease a little of their hatred towards each other. 

A new change was felt though and they don't know what will happen next.

***

"Hanamichi-sama, we're here." 

Jeantuel held the car door open. Startled, the redhead raised his head from the book he was reading to look at the old man. Time stopped for him during the journey. 

They took a flight early morning in a private plane which was destined for Okinawa. By that time, Hanamichi had regained most of his energy and began to be his usual loud self again. A lot of passenger turned their heads disapprovingly towards the hyperactive boy. He was practically jumping up and around, bumping on numerous people and their luggage, arguing with some officials and making a commotion freely in public with no one to stop him. 

It was also in the airport where Jeantuel gave him his first cellphone: a Nokia 7650. Of course, he was *overly* excited that he nearly broke the thing into pieces when he tried to grab it out from Jeantuel. Excruciatingly, the white haired man taught the technology nescient teenager on how to operate the cell. This irritated the self-proclaimed tensai so he refused to listen and pressed down some button that almost caused the phone to malfunction. 

Inside the plane, Hanamichi acted more enthusiastically than ever. The crew was on the verge of jumping off the plane. They could handle a tireless four years old kid but a seventeen years old was too much. If Hanamichi lasted like that the whole course of time, then there won't be a single person on board leaving that plane with his sanity or eardrums still intact. 

Half an hour later, feeling that there was nothing interesting to do, he indulged himself on looking for a pastime. He saw some books and magazines placed on a shelf and amazingly, he gave thought on reading them. They were all in English texts from various authors and publications, both famous and not. The magazines were usually of the business and high society class; the novels of classics and prominent forms of literature coming from acclaimed international writers. There were such works as The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran, The Stranger by Albert Camus, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, Crime and Punishment by F. M. Dostoevsky, Eugenie Grandet by Honore de Balzac, and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley; contemporaries, considered they were from authors who are yet living or had lived to see the turnouts of the 20th century, had titles such as The Joyluck Club, Dolley: A Novel of Dolley Madison in Love and War, The Onion Fields, and a lot many Stephen Kings novels which were adjacent to the Harry Potter ones and the Sidney Sheldon line.

Hanamichi, of course, in normal circumstances and expectations of people around, would not be caught dead reading a novel, much more of an English origin; unless for instance you think that the world is about to be annihilated within twelve hours upon seeing a shocking sight of the redhead ever holding a book: for you might think that he did so as an oath to do the things he had yet not dared to do so in the entirety of his life. 

Hanamichi picked up a book-- Lo and Behold!: a Don Quixote by Cervantes, and no less indeed! Probably out of curiosity, for it must have been, he proceeded to read it almost leisurely. Something must have gotten into him when he decided to indulge himself with that preference; or more appropriately guessed, he must have not been thinking at all. But incredible as it is, he continued, seemingly absorbed through out half of the trip, finishing a few chapters at length. Not one could have guessed that Hanamichi can read in English; and by God! surely no one will ever believe it. He doesn't look like someone adept with such linguistic skill, nor can he speak it fluidly just like the majority of Japanese. In his junior years, he had been flunking the subject; what more right now? Though of course, he couldn't flunk any more subjects since he started basketball for fear of being kicked out; but the point is Hanamichi can read serious and high sounding English! What more is he CAN actually understand what he's reading! 

He was in the part where Don Quixote was deliriously attacking a wind mill out of thought that it was a dreadful monster he's facing at, when in a disrupted dream, Jeantuel called him out of the trance. 

"We're here,Hanamichi-sama." 

Getting out of the remorse sensation he felt for the character of Quixote, empathizing more on the person's vivid and hyperactive imagination, Hanamichi reluctantly stepped out to reality with the book held closely to his side as he giddily grazed over the towering mansion in front of him. Jeantuel signaled the chauffeur to get the luggage; and obediently, the chubby man in black complied.

They walked on a path headed for an enormous mahogany-colored two door. Instantly a servant opened the door for them. Inside and out the mansion was of a Victorian type. Seemingly old and enchanted like the ones seen on cover papers of classical books: the draperies of the parlour were of light cream color with a touch of rosy linings on the sides; the flooring was variations of mahogany ; the walls white. A chandelier hangs brilliantly above each velvety davenport set. The salon was a long one, fit for utmost thirty people to sit in: one for each chair; and they could run wild as much as they desire without even bumping on each other. 

The two of them, after passing the waiting room, came to an opening and turned right at it, venturing once more on a solemn hallway. On every intervals there would be a intricately carved desk or chair and on the same intervals were murals, finely painted and curved, rendering an almost severe atmosphere on every passage of the house. 

"Is there anything bothering you, Hanamichi-sama?" Jeantuel broke off the eerie silence.

That got Hanamichi started, withdrawing once more in his trail of thought. "A-anou.. betsuni..."

The old confidante chuckled lightly. "For a moment you seem to be brooding over something. This was like you when you were a child; nobody knows what you were thinking or what you will be doing. And your change of mood was also very puzzling, indeed." He seemed to say this more to himself than to Hanamichi. The latter opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again as if finding nothing to retort with. 

Having gone through some series of unending staircases, they stopped at last by one of their large two door rooms. Like the stairs which were unceasing, the panels of rooms were like so. It must be really hard to keep such a big house for one could easily get lost through its labyrinth. Even so, Jeantuel's years of servitude must have paid off; after all, they didn't get lost-- though its seems Hanamichi did, in a mental sort of way. 

The room was considerably grand... and companionably cozy. Light shoot right out of the glass walls-- or were they windows? Whichever they gave the room a warm atmosphere, a stark contrast to that of the other rooms. Hanamichi noticed his luggage neatly piled on one side of the room, near a table close to the windows. 

"Well, I think I shall leave you here for now. I'll send tea for you here. If you need anything, there's a phone right there near the computer table." With this he bowed politely, directing towards the door. 

"Matte! Jeantuel..." The man stopped to close the door.

"What is it?" The redhead remained silent. Taking the opportunity, Jeantuel spoke for him. "You need not worry, young master. No more hostilities will walk these halls. Nor sufferings will smudge the pillars of this family for I think they have matured through time." 

Hanamichi could only stare dumbly as the reply for the prophetic speech given him. What the hell does this old man mean?!! Annoyingly the said old man only laughed, not at all answering the young man's confused thoughts. He closed the door before Hanamichi could even raise an obnoxious tone at him. 

"Arrrgggh! Smug old man! What does he mean by that?!"

Left alone in a room eerily sounded and vaguely familiar, Hanamichi began to think again-- an occupation that was though of as something way beyond his bounds of normality but was capable of doing so within the premises of old relations. He opened one of those large windows-- or were they doors? and found himself in a veranda. He fancied sitting on a nice peach plushy chair near the banister, enjoying the overview of the beach near the mansion. 

The house itself still holds invariably that invincible hands: imposing and stern. In its solid self, it can't possibly contrive such rule; yet in the Sakuragi mansion, one does not need verbal affirmation for rules, at least for its residents. One could feel the rules as it begins to automatically work itself upon the kin; and it also holds a Sakuragi once he is within the same vicinity with another Sakuragi. Hanamichi had thought of it and realized that he had not been himself lately. He has been brooding too long and too often! That's more than enough of confirmation besides the fact he had been totally quiet for an hour. A deep sigh followed these thoughts. Jeantuel was right: when he was a child nobody knows what he's about to do or what he was to think, a seeming contrast with what his Kanagawa friends think of him: a readable simpleton and a do'aho. Well, if you were a child who started playing piano at the age 1 1/2, began to comprehend or read things when he was barely one, and only started speaking when he reached two, one wouldn't quite know where to categorize Hanamichi as a child. Everybody thought he'd grow mute (who could possibly think of Hanamichi being mute!), dumb even (no surprise, really...). Nevertheless, he showed understanding of things through gestures and expressions which coordinated suavely through the given situations. 

Almost all his memories of childhood were forgotten; yet some he purposely retained. Among those memories were that of his mother. He could only recall them in blurred pictures: her figure, her mien, her benevolent voice and caresses. Hanamichi knew that she loved him. She was the one who arrange things for him in Kanagawa, giving him the financial support he needed after his father's death but not the emotional comfort that he had craved for so long. He once was angry at her; although now he couldn't say if he still feels the same. If anything, he felt alleviated. 

A contented sigh escaped his lips while contemplating this. Recollections of the mansion began to flood his thoughts. It had been seven years after all; the walls and panels of this building were long forgotten jigsaw puzzle rebuilding itself on his mind. He has regained some of those long lost pieces, enough to sustain information of his family history. The door to the balcony opened quietly and the person went in unnoticed by the redhead. 

"Hanamichi-sama," the smooth voice of Jeantuel fleeted to his ears, making Hanamichi start involuntarily and turn to him. "Madame Remedios wants to talk to you." His eyes sparked with unsuppressed anticipation though his stance was still conserved underneath his black Armani clothing. Hanamichi blinked at the man in front of him. Did he just hear him right? He nodded in response, not knowing what else to say or do. 

Instantly, Hanamichi found himself trailing familiar stairs and passages which his young self had traveled so many times in the past. They stopped at a huge white door, finely craved and grand. Inside was something more than grand: walls were cozy white and cream; draperies and the pieces of furniture looked unpretentious yet held elegance in their own charming way. Cool air passed through the curtains comfortingly, soothing every corner of the room. 

It was then that Hanamichi noticed the lone figure sitting near an open glass door. Her back was to him while a curtain floats lively between them, rendering her person almost totally hidden. For a nanosecond, the curtain that had stood between them parted and gave Hanamichi a glimpse of the sedentary figure. She-- as her lineament obviously defined that she was a lady-- was seemingly indulged in a Japanese embroidery at hand. But that was not of concern at the moment; for what arrested Hanamichi's attention was something part of her peculiar physicality: She has red hair.

***

Rukawa Kaede handled the ball wryly at his right hand. His fox eyes darted for enemies and possible allies from side to side before staring straight at his captain in front. Miyagi front, Kakuta right and Yasuda left; all enemies, no opening whatsoever. But then the aspiring freshmen, Kobayashi, came clearly into scene and promised an excellent outcome for the offensive team. 

Upon the temporary distraction brought about by Kobayashi, Rukawa moved in for a fake, averting Miyagi's advances; and all the while everyone thought he was going to pass it to the freshmen, the arrogant ace player did a jumper selfishly by himself. 

"Brat!" Mitsui hissed, nodding his head disapprovingly. "Selfish brat."

"Well, that didn't change."

"Hm.. That's odd, Kogure-sempai. For sometime I thought he did," Ayako contemplated.

"Well, he didn't. He's still arrogant, selfish and goddamned good. But, of course, not as good as me, that is," Mitsui snorted.

"Rukawa!" Akagi suddenly barked from beside them. Obediently, the sophomore approached. 

"Hai, sempai."

"Rukawa, basketball is a team sport, not a solo sport. I guess I have to remind you again that you still have other team mates inside the court playing with you. I thought you've changed, Rukawa."

The raven haired boy attempted to speak; but closed his mouth and uttered something else in a low hesitant voice, "Gomen nasai, sempai..." He spoke nothing more.

Akagi heaved up a heavy sigh and dismissed the youth immediately. 

***

"Something's wrong with Rukawa, sempai. He's acting a bit weird during practice today; have you noticed?" 

"But Aya-chan, he's always weird."

"Ryota, do me a favor and shut up."

"Ok ^_~ *grin, grin*"

"Yes, that's definite." Akagi's deep bass replied. They were left in the gym after practice, deciding that the upper and former classmen were to discuss some matters of their own, one of which was of a certain raven haired boy. 

"He seems to.. close himself even more, don't you think?" 

The others acquiesced at what the spectacled man said. 

"Something must be troubling him. Probably family problems, if not school problems...," Kogure thought for a while. "Nah.. definitely not school problems."

Silence reigned for some moments. "Emotional problems?" Everyone gave Mitsui a stern look. "Hey, maybe he got sick of being Mr. Ice Block and realized that he needed a friend after all. There are lots of possibilities. Who knows what that kid's thinking? Maybe he didn't have any problems at all and just became more arrogant, that's all."

"Wow! For a moment I thought you actually cared. That coming from an ex-gangster sounds really out of place," Miyagi commented. 

"Hey, what do you mean by that?!!"

"Stop it already, you two!" Kogure intervened; then he looked at Mitsui and smiled. "But maybe you're right."

"Yea, yea... " Miyagi rolled his eyes. "What is wrong with Rukawa?" And without thinking, he added, "He was normal then... right before Sakuragi was still here." 

Akagi stared pensively at Miyagi; Ayako paused. 

"What if..," she whispered to herself. Not one heard her but they sure noticed her when she was a meter behind. 

"Neh, Aya-chan?"

"Ah, g-gomen..." she stuttered, walking briskly towards them.

"Ok, why don't we just drop the subject and have a bite at Danny's. We might as well discuss some other things there while we eat," Mitsui suggested. All others agreed and they continued their walk to the said place. Ayako, on the other hand, was absorbed on a thought; she was still thinking of the blue eyed boy and was summing up her own conclusion on the former subject. It surprised her a bit on the out come; and if her hypothesis proved correct, then the subject will include not only the raven haired boy, but a redhead as well.

_I'll soon find out_, she thought, planning seriously for the future ahead.

-_-; TBC

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(~_~) I'm delayed again. My alibi: a broken modem and a term paper. Neway, this chapter's a bit long and lame. I love Hana so much I probably won't even pair him to someone else..... just kidding... or probably not. I haven't been in love enough to write something about it so my attempts would just be miserable, if not disastrous... as always. Well I figured, I need Hana to be OOC in this fic... can't be helped... bwahahaha... to my best friend, rys-chan, i luv ya... this is for you.... hope you read it.... (*_*)


	6. Reminiscing

Disclaimer : Hana's MINE!!!! Bwahahahahaha-- *choke* *choke* -- hahahaha!! .... nah! just kidding...

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

---------------------------------------

CHAPTER 5 : Reminiscing....

It's her. 

It's actually her; no doubt about it. Hanamichi's heart was filled with undefined excitement. The moment she turned to him-- a soft smile flitting across her delicate features-- he felt himself transported back to his puerile days when he used to trail the steps to his mother's chamber, seeking asylum from the weary environs of the estate. 

"Madame Remedios, Hanamichi-sama, I shall now leave you both in peace," the old man curtsied at the both of them, departing from their presence.

Till then, the only sound was the soft breeze and the gentle fluttering of the curtains. Hanamichi could not stir himself from his initial spot, staring silently at the equally silent apparition, who, in turn, continued to regard him tenderly.

She giggled cheerily. "My dear, it's ok to sit down. Or would you like to give your mother a hug first, that is if you want to," she spoke very softly and warily, a tinge of hesitation edging her tone. 

He jolted back to present, focusing immediately at the person opposite to him that was his mother. Her figure, as he recalled, was amazingly the same; though time had marked her face; the marks were retarded immensely, letting beauty live longer to its fullest. Bloody red was her hair, just like his, only naturally smooth and silky. She has the most benevolent pair of honey brown eyes framed by long eyelashes; a fair and flawless skin, almost creamy white and pampered, a whit different from Hanamichi's perfectly tanned one; an oval shaped face, astonishingly perfected in measures by a master artist; and a serene yet collective self-bearing of high-profiled and amicable elegance. 

It took him sometime to think it through; then assessing his words, he briefly replied, "I'll just take a seat," and did so on an armchair opposite to her where the view of the sea was soothing. All of a sudden, words fled his mouth and his volume greatly diminished to a soft baritone. 

They took a long while scrutinizing each others build, not knowing when or how to start their conversation. The silence was comforting; but some questions are not answered concretely by silence. Some are meant to be affirmed audibly; and this does not exclude Hanamichi and his mother's situation. Problem is: how to start, when to start, where to start and what are the words to start with? 

She breathed in, assuming a conversational stance; and in a cool voice, she commenced, "How have you been?"

"I think you know already," Hanamichi prompted in an equally cool and formal tone. 

She smiled meekly to herself. He knew then that she had been watching him all this time, that she had been given constant information of him. "Do you hate me then?"

"No. Angry, probably; but not hate."

"Are you angry at me then?"

"In the past. As of now, anger is irrelevant."

"I am happy to hear that."

He nodded, fixing a deep eye contact until he averted his gaze and grazed over the balcony.

The loud breeze threatened to break their soft toned discourse; yet in vain, for however low their voices could be, the coolness and potency of the words can not be dissolve by any external factors applied. Hanamichi's hand reached out to his face to support his chin and cradled the half of his features, therefore, giving him that solemn form of a thinker in deep contemplation. His lightly gelled hair was wildly played by the salty wind, cascading silkily to his line of vision. He could not describe what he felt that moment. Emotions flooded and mixed in him indistinguishable from each other. Whichever would dominate was yet unsettled; though his facial cast did only show a severity which he usually express in a tough game of basketball. After some seconds of ground-breaking silence, Hanamichi heaved up a resolute sigh, putting thoughts to their places and stabilizing emotions to calm. 

He looked at the ethereal face of his mother, an inevitable task that he had to face, the face which he had not seen for more than seven years; plus add the days and months during his stay with her as a child where he would see her in the most minimal circumstances possible. But he knew it was not something of her own accord; given the time, he knew she would be more than willing to spend it with him. Remedios, together with the rest of the relatives, is a family-centered individual who follows that everything must be done, obeyed and upheld according to the good of the whole kin. The Sakuragi clan, though their fame is covered secretly in the backgrounds of Japanese society, had been for about five hundred years one of the most influential family in the whole nation that until now had been kept hidden in the dark. As time goes by, the clan's influence had extended across the seas of foreign lands and intermarriages were welcomed so long as it retains the family's secret powers and wealth. The tradition of the family became a mixture of East and West and for centuries they had succeeded in keeping their power as invincible and strong as ever.

Remedios is almost one-half of a Brazilian, one-fourth Swedish, and another one-fourth Japanese (which then makes Hanamichi a product of multicultural relationship... weird, neh?). This might have serve to explain why Hanamichi's hair is red; that is because he's half breed. But the fact is, Remedios got her hair color from her mother; her mother got it from her own mother, and the mother before that and so on; all of which came from the Sakuragi clan. Meaning to say that the hair color is already a trademark of the clan, a revered crown actually. Centuries had passed, the number of red head offspring had alarmingly diminished and it came to an extent where for every generation, only one infant would grow to have those prestige hair. As for Hanamichi, he got them; but whether they're a sign of prestige or not, none could state rightly so. For him, his hair is more like a curse than an honor. 

After moments of deliberation, Hanamichi decided to speak.

One word. 

"Why?"

He listlessly bit on his left thumb, his eyes looking intently at his mother.

"Why... What 'why'?" she asked, almost obviously feigning innocence. Hanamichi somewhat knew and resolved to be specific. 

"Why did you call me back? Why now..?" he unconsciously bit on his thumb harder. "Why now when everything's quiet, when everything's in its place, when no one's going to... die.." The usually loud booming voice dropped down to an incredible murmur coated with an emotion that was alien to familiar ears of recent seven years acquaintance. 

"Hana..." she attempted to start. "I know it's hard to remember things back. Even I don't want to recall it either. Your grandmother ordered for your return--"

"Yes, of course, the Mistress. Who else would order to call me back?"

"Now, please, don't call your grandmother as if she's not related to you."

"As if she considers me related to her."

"My dear--"

"What does she want? Another blood bath, I presume?"

Remedios sighed exasperatedly; she saw that their conversation was getting futile by the minute. Hanamichi continued to bite on his fingers, meanwhile tracing aimlessly the full of his lower lip. His new grown hair, wildly played by the wind, was now brought to his face, serving as a curtain to his eyes which were conveying strong messages of skepticism, confusion, and utter pain. How could someone possibly forget a past so horrid and traumatic and be evicted of pain? And how could someone feel no pain after remembering that past which had claimed so much life and blood unnecessarily? How could he, Hanamichi, be expelled of the total guilt and be not the least distraught? He who reasons to be the cause of such a relentless event?

Jeanteul had told her that Hanamichi had finally recalled his memory back after some years. After his father's death, it came to him. Remedios shivered in fear; she had known the consequence of regained memories. She knew very well the suffering that his beloved son is feeling; and she berated herself for not being able to cease it to come, for not being there, at least. Weakness and fear had stopped her from doing what her heart had always wanted to do. And she hated herself because of her weakness. 

It never occurred to her that one simple decision could make her son's life a living hell. Just because she wasn't there at his son's second birthday... but then, was it that her son was already doomed from the moment she had given birth to him?

[Flashback]

March, 31 -- 9:00 P.M. A port somewhere south in Okinawa.

"Hanamichi-sama! Please, be still. You might get yourself thrown overboard," a young maiden, somewhere in her twenties, called out below the deck to a very young child who clearly looks not of his age because of his height.

The child, upon giving his nanny a jeering glance, proceeded to move on, not heeding her warning. Hanamichi pranced around the upper deck; it was his first time on a ship and he was thrilled to celebrate his second birthday in it. The night breeze came to further excite the young boy. His hands reached up to take off the cap that has been forcefully placed there by Naomi when another pair of hands prevented him from behind to do so. 

"How many times do I have to tell? If you want to take that off, then let us go to your room. Pronto!" Naomi grabbed the young boy by the hand then lead him down the deck. "You're mother will be very angry with you if you continue your misbehavior."

They peacefully entered the cabin area of the ship; the VIP part, that is. The halls of Floresca were one of the most enchantingly beautiful one since the artistry on the walls and statues were highly regarded masterpieces. It gives you a sense that you are walking on one of the pathways of an enchanted palace, brightly colored and serenely magnificent. The hallways were clearly lighted, not too glaringly bright yet not too dim; the carpets gave off a cheerful, yet not too intense, background; the chandeliers on one waiting room were exquisite, yet not too superfluously decorated; while the davenports were simply comfortable, both in sight and touch. 

They reached their room quickly for Hanamichi, tugging at Naomi incessantly, compelled them to move faster. Upon seeing their destination some few meters away, the young redhead finally stopped his assault on Naomi's skirt and gleefully ran to the door. He opened the door and lunged himself to the person he knew would be there. His giggles were muffled when he clung to his mother's legs. 

"Oh my!" Remedios exclaimed, seemingly surprised. "And where did my baby go to, hmm? Where have you been, you naughty boy?" She lifted him up for a kiss and laughed joyfully with him. 

Naomi, who was standing right behind the door, gently smiled at them. "I found him running around the upper deck. Good thing I could track him down or else he might have gone into trouble."

Remedios turned to her amused. "Really?" She started to tickle the young lad playfully. "My cute birthday boy is so naughty today, isn't he, ha? You've made Naomi and me worry about you. Hahaha! My, my, you should say sorry to Naomi or she'll get angry. C'mon, why don't you give Naomi a kiss," she leaned Hanamichi to Naomi so he can give her a kiss. After that, Hanamichi kissed her mother.

They were having the time of their own when the door suddenly opened and in came a tall brunette with a pair of piercing honey brown eyes. She sagged in unspeakable relief upon having the sight of the two redheads.

"Thank God he's safe! I was looking all over for him."

"Need not worry, my dear. It's a good thing Naomi found him quickly. Are the guest already here?"

"Yes. The servants are escorting them to the main hall." She advanced towards young Hanamichi. "I was then more worried about my brother; but luckily, none of them had laid eyes on him yet. They were at the dock when this little one escaped." A teasing finger ran down across the soft smooth cheek of the child. "Better that you start preparing yourself and Hana tonight before somebody starts snooping around this part of the ship."

"And you, young lady, should start accommodating and facing people with a smile tonight since more than half of them are not even of our slightest propinquity, I reckon; and most probably are not even aware of who we are. So I suggest that you stop worrying about your brother and let your dear mother take care of him, shall we?" Remedios snatched Hanamichi from the young teenager's reach and delivered him to Naomi who stood not too far from behind.

"Well, I guess you're right, Reme. I better prepare the banquet. Cheerio." She lightly saluted in goodbye. 

But before she could step out of the door, her mother called her. "Hannah, do you mind calling your grandmother?"

Hannah gave a tired sigh. "What's the use?"

"We might as well try."

She did not reply anymore to her mother; instead, she scowled, presuming an impossibility on the outcome of their preordained attempt. 

The room was left in a seeming silence after the brunette exited. Remedios had never liked the tone of hostility in her daughter's mien whenever consulted with something related to their own kin. On the other hand, she never did like the malevolence implied by her dearest relatives regarding her son, Hanamichi. It's a colossal genealogical irony though: Remedios was greatly favored by the clan because of her intellect, kindness, and the family legacy; and Hannah was also favored by the clan because of her outstanding intellect and strength, add the resemblance she expressed in her eyes of an old ancestor deeply recognized by the family ; but the clan disliked Hanamichi because they consider him as some sort of mutation and curse. Despite the clan, Hannah had loved her younger brother reverently and this incurred her to abhor the Sakuragi family. Somewhere in between, Remedios is caught, entangled in a game of tug-of-war played by people she both love dearly. Though sometimes, the rebellion of her own daughter seemed increasingly tempting.

Even so, Hanamichi grew up to be a very impressive boy. And alarmingly to the clan, he displayed certain characteristics that might have earned him the fondness of the family if he wasn't disapproved by them in the very first time of birth. His astonishingly fiery head and piercing honey brown eyes should have won him his rights, both these attributes associated with the family's predecessors who were, according to oral declarations handed down through generations, in line with the lineage of the goddess Amaterasu. 

Remedios did a recollection as he watch his beloved son being taken cared off by Naomi with saddening ardor. It wasn't a known story actually. Only it is reserved to be heard by the closest kin of the Sakuragi; very few outsiders must have heard of it and even if they did hear of such, it is always considered as a myth, which in the viewpoint of a relative was not. Eventually, to the family's advantage, the story dissolved mysteriously in fame and was never, if not very rarely, heard before. 

***

The ancestral story started off when two of the goddess's daughter descended to earth some five hundred years ago, as they say. The wonders of spring had attracted them to come down and play underneath their mother's brilliance on earth. Not heeding of time, they continued to play all day, until they realized that the sun had came down, leaving them trapped in the mortal land. 

The sun was the only thing that could get them back home. They stayed in earth overnight; but some minutes before the nearing of dawn, a noise awakened the older sister. She became curious and decided to find out the source of the sound, unwittingly leaving her other sister behind. Finding the source, she was delighted to see that it was the sun itself, peeping out from the horizon. Self sphere influence must have been her guide to unmindfully disregard her sibling in an attempt to provide her own satisfaction. Not that her character is of much importance to provide analysis. 

The younger sibling, on the other hand, found herself alone and it was tough luck for her since it was almost high noon. The sun was way far for her to reach; so she resolve to wander off the woods, contemplating on her predicament. Out of fear of her mother and the possibilities of adventure in the mortal world, she, being the younger and unabashed sister, decided not to come back. She tried to live among humans; but it was definitely hard for her. Her hair that was as red and aggressive as the sun gave her out. A freak, a monster, a goddess she was to them. Anyway it was confusing. One moment she was treated like a queen; the next she was greeted with fear. It somehow pissed her off. But, they say, her only consolation was her adventures. 

She was more of an aggressive type; and heavenly beautifully she was, her manners were martial at its most unfeminine description at that era. She was as young as she was naive; intelligent as she was strong; and powerful as she was beautiful. Marriage seemed repulsive of her; though a lot of young men were attracted to her. Her superiority greatly scared them away but she didn't mind. Until a young simple man made her fall in love and with him, she had a child, a daughter. After the birth of her daughter, the child of the sun goddess mysteriously disappeared. 

The young man's relationship with the daughter of the sun was unknown for they must have met in one of the princess's solitary adventures wherein the location was in some desolated area. It was said that the infant grew up to be very much like her mother with red flowing hair and piercing brown eyes which cast a deadly stare. To hide this off, the father had to always put a wide hat over the child and hide her from any disaster she could attract. But the child had this very attractive and manipulating aura; a power, they say, that was in need at feudal times. The child then, as she grew up, used this to get what she wanted. Time runs fast and as descendants after descendants lived, having partially the goddess's traits, they took influences and talents at their utmost disposal in order to attain their position. Thus they say was the story of the Sakuragi clan. The story never said much; it is because of the secrets that are intended to be kept hidden. The Sakuragi's knew they were not that normal and somehow it shows. 

***

March 31-- 10:54 P.M. Off in the East China Sea

The night was perfect and the breeze was soothing. Little stars adorned the sky delicately while a dark auburn haired child was watching them with utter fondness. He saw Polaris and the Big Dipper ever gracing the Northern Hemisphere. Not that he was clearly knowledgeable of the constellations but since his mother had so kindly pointed them up some almost two hours ago, at approximately 9 p.m., he had kept track of them somehow. And if he thus marked it entirely so, then the probability of precision would be high, if not completely correct. 

But it was 9 o'clock then and it had been nearly two hours since, the usual March sky display were fading consistently. Too bad no one would assist him in using the telescope somewhere at the upper deck, positioned near the nose of the ship, nor did he have binoculars to aid him. Nevertheless, the naked eyes of a child provide as much as the imagination could conceive and it was enough for him. He thought he saw Antlia's ill-defined structure; up till now, he could not understand why it's called the Air Pump. It never looked like one to him and it's stars were out of place. At least, that was what he saw in the books he had read. The Crater was there: an almost square figure with the triangular Alkes stuck inside. Adjacent was Hydra, the water serpent. He had read about the serpent of Lerna, the one they call Hydra, who was a beast with a hound's body and a hundred serpentine heads. And if that wasn't bad enough, it also got a poisonous breath and a Medusa like attributes. Hercules had killed the hideous beast yet the young boy was the least amazed by it, as other boys might have been attracted to the image of the Greek hero. Instead the young boy wondered of the constellation's larger area scope. He had read that Crater (the cup), Sextans (the sextant) and Corvus (the crow) had been once part of the now reduced Hydra; but still ,it is the largest constellation in the sky, with Virgo close behind it and somewhere above it (or below it, depending on how you look at it). The moment he saw Crater up there, he knew that Hydra is somewhere very close. His sister told him that Hydra guards that cup of water (probably Crater) from Corvus, the crow, forever denying him a drink of water. There was also this thing about Babylonian mythology about Hydra seen in the pages of Gilgamesh.

He was about to hunt for the Ursa Major and Leo -- both he fancied due to their interesting shapes, especially Leo which his mother said she saw the night of his birth -- when something gently touched his head. Turning around, honey brown eyes were held captivated by two silvery orbs curtained with velvety silver strands. A young man, a teenager to be precise, kneeling before him was caressing his hair. He was an odd man, sporting stark white clothes from head to toe, matching his hair and his eyes. The only evident contrast to his apparel was the pair of dangling bloody red earrings trying vainly to hide behind the long silvery strands that where probably up to his waist. And if it wasn't for the strange way he suddenly appeared and started to touch him like that, Hanamichi would have thought of him as an angel. There was also this look in him somewhat akin to fascination.

"What does a lovely boy like you doing here?" His voice was as soft has his hair. Hanamichi stared innocently at him. Not that he didn't understand him, it's just that... he couldn't answer him. It was then when the stranger's pale hands left his hair to touch his cheeks. 

"What's your.. name?" This time the boy was enclosing one of Hanamichi's small hands to his own. Hanamichi attempted to open his mouth, noting very well in his young mind that he couldn't answer for himself. His nearly two years old brain might not have registered speech as something necessary and that it would have been better to not mingle with the adult world of talk, talk, talk. Thus nearly two years old and may have been considered a child much sensible for his age, he never as much as spoke one tangible syllable word, be it foreign or what. Sure he could scream and say hahaha! but then that's just about it. 

He opened his mouth, leaving it hanging there for some good seconds, then closed it. The silver haired, angel guy showed a bit of disappointment; but it was soon replaced by a frown, his nose imperceptibly twitching, sensing something. Suddenly, he leaned forward to sniff on Hanamichi's hair. 

"Dyed..?" He just whispered behind his ears. It didn't take a scientist for little Hanamichi to figure out what the hell this weirdo's talking about. It almost stopped his little heart from beating; but why would he be scared? So the guy figured out that his hair was dyed, would he know that it was normally red? But then, the guy was intelligent enough to smell newly dyed hair. Should he consider an applause for this stranger's--

"Or did mama bring his little boy to the parlor, didn't she?"

What was it about the stranger's what?? He could only sweatdrop.

Hanamichi flashed one of his very naive smiles at him. At any circumstances he would have graced the young man with more than a just smile but there was something about the guy that irked him. He seemed kind and at any angle, can be regarded as angelic. The silver haired boy smiled at him warmly, vanishing all malicious thought of him. He looked nice, probably he is.

"It's cold in here. Why don't we--"

"Kurosaki-san!!" A faint yet fairly audible shout came from behind him, somewhere within a hundred meter radius or probably even less. The man turned a bit, scowling irately before dismissing the call. 

"You haven't answered any of my questions. Guess you're taking the no-talking-to-strangers motto severely," he chuckled to himself rather cutely. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you or anything." He was quite convincing though. 

"Kurosaki-san!! Where are you?!" Once again. The call was getting louder and undoubtedly getting closer. 

The stranger stood up, a totally piqued expression shattering his angelic features. Second later, he resumed a half-hearted jovial face. "Hey, would you come with me inside?" He crouched back and stared at the startled face of the child. "Ok, maybe not but-- Mind telling me your name, kid?" He seemed a bit persistent at that. At some point, Hanamichi was about to think that he's an FDA; besides this guy almost figured that he went for a peroxide plunge. Maybe he knows he's got his brows covered up with heavy p-phenylenediamine, probably with lead sulfide and stuff like that but he really didn't know. The ladies were careful enough to apply the goo on and other than that he still got his eyesight pretty good, thank goodness! 

"Kurosaki-san!" At last the sound came dangerously near, approximately three meters out of sight before it, or he, comes to view. The older boy stood up to greet --with evident restraints of rage -- the person who had unwittingly offended for some reason this seemingly ethereal figure. 

A finely looking young man, though not as nicely presentable as the former man, suddenly popped in from a turn. "Oh, there you are, Kurosaki-san! I've been searching all over for you. The banquet has already started and just what are you doing here?" 

"I was wondering around the hall when I came across--" He turned to Hanamichi but the child was out of sight. 

"Came across what?" the intruder asked impatiently.

"Uh.. nothing. Forget about it. Let's go."

-_-;; TBC

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(~_~) hell! what was that??? damn! my fics turning weirder by the second! what the hell's wrong with me!!!???... neway, i'm afraid i have to continue this in the next chap.... it seems i'm leaving a lot of mysteries behind unanswered... hehehe... the Ameterasu story i just made up, obviously... i hope its not too crappy or something... r&r... onegai!!!(#_#)


	7. Bloody Birthday

Disclaimer : Hana's not mine.... DAMN!!!  
  
Title : The Sakuragi Cousins  
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
CHAPTER 6 : Bloody Birthday  
  
March 31-- 11:00 P.M. Of in the East China Sea  
  
"What? (pause) Is she all right?" Remedios asked a bit frantically, unconsciously gripping the receiver hard. ".... Oh, dear! She what? (pause) Y-yes... I'll try. But its my son's birthday party, how can I--" Her face was covered with worry, confusion and dread. "Yes, yes... Take care of her."  
  
The other line went dead. Remedios slumped down to a seat infront of the mahogany desk.  
  
"What was it?" Hannah interrupted her mother's thoughts. She was leaning against the glass door of the writing room looking troubled.  
  
"Your Aunt Mercedes wanted me to be there."  
  
"But its Hanamichi's birthday! They can't force you to go there!" Hannah straightened her posture.  
  
"Your aunt is in labor!" She pointed out with a tone higher than the usual calmness of her voice. Noting her daughter's wide eye expression due to her raising of voice, she resumed back to her normal and soothing tone. "And they are not forcing me to do it."  
  
"Ow, foo!" She spited out disdainfully, her hair tossing about in forceful contempt. A rational part of her said she was being too harsh and bias towards her mother; but the thought was just making her mad. "Couldn't they take care of her themselves? For crying out loud, she's not dying!!"  
  
Remedios stood up; bewilderment and rage clearly etched in her face. "Hannah, don't you dare talk to your relatives like that! I did not raise you to be so rude and contemptible. Your Aunt Mercedes is in much pain right now and it is also my Hanamichi's birthday. Please, don't try to make it harder for me than it is already." There was nothing more she could say. At the moment, trepidation almost swept her off her sanity. And it was unmistakable that Hannah had delivered much of her agitation in flesh.  
  
The younger woman, with both hands fisted contorting the exquisite beautification so delicately actualized by their own highly sought after friseurs, gave an almost imperceptible yet notable start. Whether the reflex was of impulse or a subconscious need to further emphasize the disappointment on her mother's sudden outburst -- therefore giving her mother the notion of guilt, either on her part or her mother's -- is only known to her. It was not the first time Hannah had contested over something: her enemy being her own mother, or any of the family for that matter. She was known to raise heated comments with a passion, most commonly regarding her brother. And more than often she had somehow triumphed over colloquies: her against almost all of them.  
  
She was about to retort, forcibly pushing her more genial and logical soul that has been telling her to calm down and start acting civilized, when she noticed the sudden change in her mother's expression; an almost audible but discernable gasp escaping her lips.  
  
To her right, a pair of soft brown orbs greeted her immediately. Hanamichi was sitting on one of the upholstered rose plush chairs placed on either sides near the writing room's two door entrance. For some obvious reasons, his seemingly idle gestures suggested that he had been there for quite a long time, probably enough to be of audience to their recent conversation. His innocent gaze somehow further disturbed the two older women to some inexplicable extent, the way his small feet continued leisurely with its paddling motion which emphasized his carefree innocence that was so natural of him.  
  
"Hanamichi..." Remedios uttered. There was a suppression of alarm in her voice. "Since when--" She paused.  
  
It was sensibly stupid to ask. Not that the latter statement made much sense but rather it's a description of a simple sentence turned complicated by certain contradicting ideas and events which were conceived from cryptic intricacies made uncomfortably simple. In other words, let's just drop the subject.  
  
Hanamichi replied an utterly lovely smile for his mother and sister's collective shock. He was there during the reign of their argument, there in the middle of the phone call; and he wanted them to know that he took it not as an offense on his part but rather a privilege, something to be exulted. A new member of the family was about to see the wonders of life for the first time. And to make the moment more special, it is nearly of the same day of his birth, thus giving of more importance and honor to him.  
  
In a swift childish motion, Hanamichi found his feet on the floor, and in its own exultation, trotted forward the direction of the older redheaded woman. Words were almost useless when an extraordinary child's eyes express an affirmation sincerely potent, equivalent to that of being highly vocal. Hanamichi glanced up both women sweetly.  
  
The two siblings watched from afar as the helicopter carrying their beloved mother launched up to air heading for Naha. Hanamichi, then on his sister's arms, was also carried off on his own wistful thoughts. He had heard of his Aunt Mercedes' expected child and like every one else in the clan, he was secretly anticipating for its coming. So anxious was he that he was more than willing to give up his mother's presence. Actually he even wanted to cancel the whole celebration just to witness the event. He wanted to be there when his cousin arrives; he wanted to be there when his aunt christens his cousin as 'Antoinette' -- just as his Aunt Mercedes had long planned it to be; he wanted to touch Antoinette, to take care of Antoinette, and to play with Antoinette.  
  
But he couldn't, wouldn't be there in this glorious night. He had said that every one in the clan was anticipating the child's birth; but then, it was every one except his sister, Hannah. She had developed a queer indifference on the subject. Her propensity towards the clan was totally alien to Hanamichi but he tried not to question her (which was then not really possible considering his reluctance to speak). So to avoid any further aggravation, little Hanamichi settled to appease both of his beloved.  
  
After the helicopter disappeared through the night sky, Hanamichi found himself looking wistfully at the dim horizon as he was ushered inside their cabin. He had waited for months for the child. In his youthful mind, he was anxious for a playmate, anxious for someone nearly of his own age. But he had some other people to attend to and it was making him unwillingly sad.  
  
***  
  
March 31-- Approximately 11: 55 P.M. Somewhere of in the East China Sea  
  
It was delightful. He was feeling a bit nervous and excited, his previous discomfort washed away by childish revelry. The outside breeze seemed to calm the atmosphere. A lot of people were waiting for him at the hall; even if only less than 1/6 of the population knew him (or even lesser at such point), he was nevertheless thrilled to meet them.  
  
Hanamichi was becoming restless in his seat. He was told to behave and stay in his room while his sister prepare for the occasion. Staring at the vision of himself in front of the huge wall of mirror opposite him, he could see himself getting more impatient by the second. It was unbearable for him.  
  
Naomi excused herself from priming him when a knock interrupted them minutes ago. Since then she hadn't returned yet and that made young Hanamichi petulant.  
  
He gave out a large intake of breath before he resolutely stirred himself for one last time in his seat.  
  
***  
  
The night was enticing. Though a peevish straw of fate was set out to annoy the darkness and the silence. Peril was notified when suspicious characters dared to venture the premises of the Sakuragi's; in line with that, Hannah's clairvoyance had triggered her strongly, therefore alerting the whole of their mandate whilst keeping the guest ignorant of the disturbance. But they were already busy preparing for the feast. It could not be delayed at this moment, not now when it's five minutes before the celebration. As for the disquieting premonition, Hannah had decided for it to wait.  
  
Unbeknownst to them all, the fiery headed celebrant was out in the shadows.. and perhaps in the most insufferable and turbulent time of his life.  
  
***  
  
He ran as soon as he saw the time indicated in one of the wooden clocks at the waiting area he had just passed by. It was nearly time. In a fit of joyous laughter, he sped up the halls using his small feet. Waves of adrenaline overcame his little body; he wanted to frolic around and drown in the company of happy people. He had never been in such a huge gathering, especially one entitled only for him. Whenever there were parties at the mansion, he would be locked up in his room, having permitted only as far as a glimpse from the door. Other than that, he would spend his time imagining what it would be like among the crowd. Deprived as he was of social contact, he was not totally deprived of love and comfort. There were Hannah, Remedios, and, well, basically -- Naomi and probably Jeantuel could be considered. The point is, he wasn't totally unloved and ignored. Hannah's and Remedios' love would have sufficed him. It was only that the apathy of the mansion hindering much of his comprehension as to why he feels so much abhorred by the remaining kin other than his mother and sister which was inflicting him undesirable isolation: an isolation that shows itself to be too cruel for a child to experience.  
  
Tonight was the night he was to claim himself in front of an audience; the right to be recognized as a Sakuragi; to intrigue the feeble- minded and the clueless; to shock the knowledgeable by showing the definite feat of nature, her mystic design gone unresolved which only fate could answer: the design which was he.  
  
He dashed through the serene night; the unwavering smile and excitement clear on his eyes. Consumed he was of the revelry that he did not notice the chill in the air and the questionable silence of the hall as he approached the destined chamber. Two huge deep mahogany doors greeted him in view; their front festooned with intricate carvings: floral they seem. A very minimal cloud of white emission seeped in between the crevices at the bottom of the door. The cold night and the radiant moon increased further Hanamichi's anticipation; the frigid air making him less stressed.  
  
In one strong movement, he opened the door.  
  
***  
  
The dense white cloud was spread out in the room. It was impossible to see. The room was a cross between night and white heaven, whatever such combination could arise. One would not have seen a 30 feet black giant even if it were standing right in front of him. One would have been groping for his own hand if he were a complete idiot. Which was then not the case of Hanamichi. He had remembered a fog this dense some months ago, when his mother had decided to spend their Christmas vacation on the western part of the world, somewhere in Canada. They woke up one morning with nothing to see but a mass of what seemed like snow inhibiting the sides of the window while a very dense fog shadowed most of the view.  
  
He was not a nervous child nor was he easily frightened. Hanamich could be sensitive but certainly he was a child of common sense. Some years from now his senses would soon be overshadowed by his naiveté but it will not fade. Awkwardly he lingered in the mist, thinking probably of this as a surprise; that his guest, his sister would be coming out from nowhere, greeting him lovingly. It was while having his happy contemplation when a substantial object suddenly tripped him off balance, resounding an ugly thud. He thought it was odd. Had he just tripped on something? Or rather someone? The sound was as distinct as a fallen body. It could not be mistaken.  
  
Hands frantically searching for the offended object, he moved in all fours. He grabbed it from where he thought it was and realized it to be an extremity: a hand, to be precise, limping heavily and unmoving.  
  
As if on cue, the mist of cloud slowly but surely dissipated in front of his view and proved his senses. It was a hand. Where it came from was something he had regretted seeing. A gentleman, presumably in his tender age of fifteen, was seen sprawled on his stomach, brown eyes looking dead. And from the side of his soft delicate lips issued a rich trail of startling crimson red.  
  
Instantly, the child felt utmost horror; something he had not encountered before. Either it was the corpse's eyes or Hanamichi's that reflected the singularly intense horror which seized him, or both of them did. And in less than two of a second he had visualized himself surrounded by a hundred prone bodies, lifeless and dreadful as he thought they were, through the imagery of dissipating mist. Then for some moments his mind boggled itself whether the vision was from the realm of reality or utter madness. At last, for what seemed to him a dreadful millionth of a time, his mind settled for the undoubtedly palpable and paralyzing vision of reality. There WERE a hundred -- no, even more prone bodies than he could have ever imagined nor wanted to see in his entire childhood. And in terms of realization, his senses was partially rendered numb.  
  
On the floor, all the same to him --man or woman, young or old-- bodies littered literally. Either completely intact and can be mistaken in repose, or brutally dismembered or dimpled by what had to be something frighteningly sharp and lethal. Painstakingly, Hanamichi took the view in front of him, disregarding the lone standing figure in the center of what had to be a blood bath; in the back of the figure lingered still the thick mist, withdrawing there to take view of the desolated child.  
  
"You are safe."  
  
Hanamichi finally regarded the voice, eyes unmistakably wide with shock and innocence that only he can concur. Comprehension lagged behind his young mind; expectedly, he did not take note the whit of vague concern in that statement, thus missing everything else. The young redhead looked pass the mist, the bodies and the lone figure. He could not believe this. There were suppose to be a lot of happy people, a lot of happy, lively people in the room. They could not possibly be lifeless!  
  
He was only two years old. He was aware of death; but by God! his mind was too young to be acquainted THIS close to it, much more be slap in the face by death itself.  
  
The apparition directed himself towards Hanamichi and in his right hand a silvery scythe was eminent. Its edge, long and ominous, was coated graciously by death's desired crimson hue. More shadows slowly formed behind them. In a matter of minutes men, armed menacingly, materialized in all sides and ensued havoc.  
  
Hanamichi's mind was battling somewhere else; the noise, the gore and the wafting smell of blood was unreal. These clearly, he rejected. The angry reports made by equally angry weapons were unreal. The bodies scattered and newly added parts flying were also unreal. Even the familiar voice of Hannah, distant yet furious, the sound of battle cries accompanied by apocalyptic noises, were all seemingly unreal. He had no idea why this is all happening. His consciousness trying fervently to block the ensuing truth.  
  
Just as he was to withdraw himself from the repressing sanity, a sudden startling slap caught the side of his face, pulling forcefully his retreating intelligence. Dazedly, he looked down on his side where the blow had gone to and froze. There in his left shoulder and hand, glaring tauntingly at him, the abominable color of rich, thick blood. Instantaneously, his protective barrier erupted and he stared, for the first time, wide-eyed and horrified at the events unfolding in front of him. The mist that had dissipated was then replaced by chaos, blood, gore and noise.  
  
Hanamichi was still immobile; his eyes glued to the scene, uncaring of the hands that clung to his shoulders and the body which tried frantically to block his sight. Naomi had came up from nowhere, sobbing nervously while trying as much as she can to protect the child. Yet in vain for the child had not but once left his eyes on the bloody chaos presented upon them. For the moment he has regarded the tall figure nearest to them. His back to them and scythe in hand, he savagely tossed a body over, split in half the pitiful lad whose suit declare him to be one of the Sakuragi's guards. Hanamichi's gaze he must have sensed for when he turned around his crystal eyes pierced the young boy's bewildered brown orbs, sending shivers of recognition to his small spine.  
  
Bedaubed he was with the almost intolerable red stain, that initial ethereal aura could still be detected. In that state, the man set to him, stepping on corpse unceremoniously; eyes deeply fixed to Hanamichi's with a frightful glimmer, almost an insane delight, in his eyes. The stance, the movement, and the impressive beauty that the stranger portrayed behest a resemblance to that of the archangel Azrael. With the bloody sickle, he did resemble the Angel of death; and as he then approached, a numbing dread crept over Hanamichi's being.  
  
The Angel of death looked down upon him: amused, sadistic, not a trace of sanity in his gray eyes but lusty, diabolic fire that generated and drowned in his being thoroughly. The scene shifted itself as fast as comprehension could have dawned on Hanamichi at that moment. Naomi's feverish hysteria turned in to a sharp gasp; her body forcefully pulled up, like she was a disgusting leper. Hanamichi saw, for the first time, the utter fear in her eyes; it was absolutely clear that he could almost feel it in his skin, crawling.  
  
It happened instantly. The sickle coming down to her torso, another to her neck, in motions that had to be supernaturally swift. Blood burst forth like a fountain towards him, almost bathing him with its thickness and smell. The taunting glaring hue was inexorable that it made his stomach twist with nausea. And to add up impression to the already gruesome picture, Naomi's head fell off and rolled forward to his feet facing him. The complete terror and pain in her wide brown eyes was undeniable; her once pleasant face contorted with obvious agony.  
  
He tried to closed his eyes, yet to no avail. He could not believe that it was Naomi there, lifeless and decapitated. The mantra 'it's not her' and 'this is not happening' was desperately repeated in his young mind in attempt to dissuade himself from what was happening. He desperately wanted to cry, to scream, to run, to panic, to do anything other than stand there, immobile, like a damnable stone cold statue doing nothing but to bear and watch as the innocent parts of Naomi fell heavily before his feet. He could only open his mouth, wanting so much to cry and producing nothing more but low incoherent sounds.  
  
"Shouldn't you be screaming?" That cold, sadistic voice snapped Hanamichi back. Slowly he dragged his head to meet the fearful angel's face with his silver eyes gleaming sinister.  
  
How could someone so beautiful and benevolent looking creature do as ghastly as this?  
  
"Shouldn't you be crying? Running?" he flaunted, conceivably amused, taking the child openly into sight as if he was an irresistible candy needed to be taken.  
  
"My, my! Such a brave cute boy!" Then he laughed like a mad man, a frightful laughter surpassing the chaotic noise that was still around them. Though it seemed to Hanamichi that the only persons existing were this madman and he.  
  
The surrounding seized him once more and frighteningly, something in him, a molding paroxysm erupted. The blood, the corpse, the destruction besetting him was simply too much. Instantly, he saw red; he could actually feel it in his whole body.  
  
"Hanamichi!" Hannah's voice burst out from the racket. She had ran across the anarchy to where his brother was, settling herself in front of the Angel of death. She attempted an attack but was flung by an unforeseen surge of air several feet away, crashing painfully on a table. The man was to assess another assault, preferably with his deadly staff.  
  
Somewhere off, a clock struck midnight.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG!"  
  
This commotion halted almost every movement that was to be executed, even the considered Angel of death stood agape. There in the middle of the room, covered by fiery red light was Hanamichi screaming, for all he care, his fear, agony and frustration. The glowing light pursued its defiant redness which then dissolved the fake color of his hair. The light was like a fire that burned him and the heat was exceedingly becoming palpable. And in one rapid blink of a second, great streams of fatal red light spread out from him throughout the dimensions of the hall, favoring only few special people to run speedily to a leeway and protect themselves from the hazard of the red rays. The unfortunate ones, which were many, were blown away to the walls, splattered like newly fed mosquitoes sticking on the surface. A sight which can be truly called hideous.  
  
This hideous sight greeted young Hanamichi. Then and there he knew he severely needed to cry. They died because of him. He never wanted for them to be dead and yet they were. Surprisingly, the Angel of death stood some feet away, unscathed. His smooth pale skin and albino features marred by a bit of shock, with his red dangling earrings still protruding, was as usual. His stark white clothes bloodied all over were all intact.  
  
Their eyes met; and as Hanamichi gazed at the silvery malicious orbs, it resounded of an unspoken awe that says all that happened.  
  
It was all his fault.  
  
He then fainted.  
  
***  
  
A blurry white ceiling greeted him, along with the smell of something artificial surrounding him. He recognized a faint screaming from afar. Soon it sounded louder, more of a shriek committed to redeem one's life from death's grasps. Weakly, he strained his ears to familiarize with the situation. It was a woman's cry: long, laborious, and dragging moan. Another sound was heard, one last wail before he sank back into the darkness from which he came from. Together with the woman's last wail came another shrill cry. The cry was from an infant. And as he turned back to sleep, a smile flitted on Hanamichi's lips.  
  
-_-;;;; TBC  
  
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(~_~;) k, pips! me back.... let me discuss some things. 1st of all: my fics getting strange neh? there's a lot of genre going in here. forgive the slight morbidity imposed in this chapter. 2nd: bout the pairings. yaoi, yuri, some definite incestuous affinity which hopefully would turn out to be something insane... depends whether my hands would like to work on it (my hands do these things to their own accord. i've no control of them!!!!) some obssessive stalkers, a bunch of sociopaths, sadomasochistic people, politicians, businessmen, scientists, and some wacky others will probably be in this fic. but then of course i'll depend whether my hands would include them all or if they could all fit together in this fic. 3rd: i could execute the story in different ways but as to which of them, i have no idea. we'll see as we go along. 4th and last, since i'm getting lazy.... MERRY CHRISTMAS, pips!!!!! may God bless you all, you wonderful, creative people!!! thank you for reading this and may you have a blessed time.... see you next chap!!! (;~____~) 


	8. Eternal Bond

Disclaimer : Nope. Not mine.... fortunately... um, somehow...?  
  
Title : The Sakuragi Cousins  
  
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CHAPTER 7 : Eternal Bond  
  
[Flashback still...]  
  
April 1-- Approx. 2:30 A.M. A hospital in Naha, Okinawa.  
  
"Oh, my God!" Remedios flung herself to her one and only son. Hanamichi just stared at her with questioning eyes that were half- lethargic.  
  
The doctor shifted his gaze to Hannah. "Probably brain trauma. It's only temporary. We could subject him to therapy as--"  
  
"No! There is no need for that," Hannah said a bit too sternly.  
  
"But--"  
  
"I said no! Thank you very much Kaita-sensei."  
  
Defeated and startled, the young doctor prepared his leave with a final gesture at the young impudent teenager. "Hai. If something happens, please inform me at once."  
  
"Yes, doctor. I can assure you of that," she replied, not bothering to look at the doctor beside her as she focused intently at the sobbing figure of her mother and her bewildered brother.  
  
"I shall leave now." And so he did. But not without bearing any suspicions regarding the family that he had just encountered.  
  
Weird bunch, he thought while threading the way to the newly born babies, first the infant, then this child.  
  
He could not anymore question the strange predilections of the family with regards to the children. Though he dared once in a while, he would always be cut off with a definitive severity which would make him shut up abruptly. Besides he did not wish to rankle any of the family members. The Sakuragis were not the right people to mess with. They have that arresting characteristics which help them standout in a crowd; a gravity that is both fascinating and repelling.  
  
Kaita-sensei dismissed the troubling thought as he turned right and disappeared from the hall.  
  
***  
  
/"It's only temporary..."/  
  
The doctor's warning rang in her head like an ugly phone call dispatch at 6 a.m. in the morning when you just had your Saturday night hangover leaving you with a despicable headache. In the same manner it was ugly. Hannah fisted her hands vehemently, unmindful of the bandages surrounding that portion.  
  
It's better that way. Best if it last forever.  
  
Hannah bit off tears as she watched the lamentable state of her mother, holding her brother like it was her very life threatened. Remedios had been crying incessantly. This has got to be the worst night of the Sakuragi family. Both induced by two of Nature's best and contradicting processes: Life and Death; five hundred deaths in exchange for one born and another celebrant. Ironic how both of these had made such a disastrous impact on the life of the family. Like one soul equates five hundred of those unknown; all the same and unwanted.  
  
The child was born about 15 minutes after Hanamichi had been admitted in the hospital. It has been half an hour now and her Aunt Mercedes was still in her misery. Hannah could still hear her furious cries, faint and ghostly, along the corridors.  
  
Hannah slumped herself on the seat opposite the hospital bed where Hanamichi, in his dazed state, looked at Remedios with confusion. Remedios composed herself gradually, asking and feeling for her son's health. At this point, Remedios and Mercedes were all different. They were sisters alright, intent on the welfare of the family. But Remedios had loved Hanamichi from the moment she had conceived of him and she had never stopped loving him up until now. Mercedes, on the other hand, shoved the child away in a fury of contempt as soon as she had seen the total failure of her child. What was once the object of pride crumbled down to an obloquy; for the arrogant Mercedes had not taken precaution and had not thought that Nature could do her menace twice during her whimsical times. And now she was hapless, resolving to blatant cursing and damning the innocent infant. How that despicable mother wished her own child's death rang through the corridor, and then, saying that she did not wished to be like Remedios. Hannah thought it to be disgustingly pathetic. She had not remembered her own mother to be that inhuman to her brother; and how assuming of her to indirectly think that she could be like her mother! The nerve of that bitch! She could curse the French guy she had married for all Hannah cared but she shouldn't be involving her mother. She was never involve on their procreation so she should vent it on her French husband. Or was he Austrian? All Hannah knew was he came from somewhere in Europe. They have lots of those; foreign relations, she meant.  
  
Hannah shook her head. She was attempting a diversion. A diversion was good at the moment, something to keep her sane. She glanced at the bed. Hanamichi was now softly sleeping; her mother gently caressing his forehead. She could not stand to hold her brother's gaze, afraid to find the faint traces of pain shattering his innocence. But also afraid of that blank expression on her brother, the traumatic outcome of shock and pain. A diversion, as she sat exhausted with Hanamichi slumbering in front of her, would be absolutely welcomed. There are lots of topics to choose from; she could think of anything, like her aunts' mishaps, perhaps.  
  
Now what was it about foreign relations? The name Altagracia[1] came to her, the oldest of her aunts. They say she was quite a beauty, with intellect to boot. Hannah never meet her actually. Her mother was barely eight months in conception when she left. Altagracia married a Caucasian, a foreigner, a gaijin. Whatever you call them. Whose nationality Hannah had not bothered to remember. She was relatively young then, about 17 or 18. They didn't have a child. The fist pregnancy resulted to the child having hemolytic disease which later on killed the said child. The second one, due to a situation or another, resulted to traumatic abortion. It was the first time a disorder of such accumulated in the family. Afterall the interbreeding for nearly a century, then suddenly it occurred unknowingly, one would have guessed the stir it cost. Indeed it's the start of a bad omen.  
  
Altagracia was said to had been advised, or -as Hannah had most accurately presumed- ordered to divorce the foreign husband. But for some reason or another, she refused the divorce, declined her inheritance, and withdrew from the clan. Hannah bet her life for it that there wasn't a peaceful goodbye for her.  
  
Years passed by and the proud clan amazingly shrugged the whole incident off as if Altagracia never existed. They did not take any precautions of such, living haughtily and traditionally like they should; until, of course, when Hanamichi came. The Sakuragi clan, behind the shattering mask of existence, was undoubtedly stirred.  
  
"Hannah." It was her mother, speaking calmly with evident concern. Remedios may have noticed her spacing out.  
  
The door was softly opened and a girl with flowing blond hair which was up to her waist entered. She had concern sad blue eyes and was about Hannah's age. Her dress was a long light yellow one that was buttoned all the way up. She looked like a foreign princess.  
  
"Aunt Remedios, I'm sorry to disturb you but... anou, Grandma has called upon you. They're waiting at the lobby."  
  
Remedios stood up, regarding the young beautiful blonde warmly. "Yes, thank you." She glanced back at her reposed son and with a heavy heart, left the room, leaving the young ones idly.  
  
Hannah positioned herself on a chair near her brother's bed, smiling cordially for a while at the yellow-lock girl by the door. The girl then approached the bed, looking silently at Hanamichi.  
  
"You look pale," Hannah commented.  
  
"You look distraught," she said without a pause.  
  
"It's one of those highly exhausting nights brought about by stupendously exaggerated relatives who do nothing but make themselves and other people miserable because of their oh, so antiquated and unbelievable custom."  
  
"Tradition."  
  
"Whatever. Same fucking thing." Both of them sighed drearily. Silence impregnated the atmosphere.  
  
"So you think it's a farce too?"  
  
"A farce? Now that even sounded like an understatement! This is all-- "  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
Hannah was stunned as she heard what the other uttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I can't believe you just said that. That's the first foul word I've heard from you."  
  
The girl chuckled. "There's a first for everything. Besides this absurdity's cracking me up. Perhaps liberating me in a way."  
  
"Can't blame you," Hannah shrugged. "By the way, how's she?"  
  
"Miserable. I tried understanding her but I'm running out of patience. She's still ranting and whining and cursing my brother to hell."  
  
"Cursing your French dad there too?"  
  
"Sometimes. And my dad's Italian."  
  
"Same continent."  
  
They both turned to stare at the sleeping form of Hanamichi.  
  
"I wish they would all just stop this nonsense, Hannah. My brother does not deserve this kind of treatment, especially from our own mother. It would be just awful for a child to realize that his own mother could wish him dead. If only my mother could be just like Aunt Remedios."  
  
"Let's just think ourselves lucky that our family weren't trained to be traditionally rigid or else they may have killed the child by now."  
  
"Dear God, don't let that happen!"  
  
"Don't worry, Francesca, it won't," she smiled assuredly. Francesca returned the smile, calm yet sad.  
  
"Don't you think we should hear what they are talking about?"  
  
Hannah stood up, all the while removing a stray lock of red from her brother's forehead. "Aa. I was just thinking of that. I'll tell a nurse to watch my brother for a while."  
  
***  
  
The child woke up in his white sheets and entourage, scarcely lit by the lingering night sky outside the window. Noticing his solitude, Hanamichi slid down the cool mattress and groped through the grayish compound of the room. The hallway was serene and enticing. Fright was lingering in him but his feet pursued their own volition, insisting for a walk on the half gloomy path. He had been entranced by an impressive sound that seemed to have marked itself some moment ago; only a memory of a cry retained in him from someone he did not know. He had ventured a number of turns, had passed by a couple of persons, and had gone down some flight of stairs with a mission to search for the possessor of that shrill cry.  
  
At last his feet carried him to some quiet spot, a long passage with ample light to support the blurry eyed. He had almost bumped himself to a nurse as they go about the night shift nonchalantly. It was really queer for them to not notice the child at wonder. Sooner or later the sporadic outpour of nurses and patients faded in a lone spot, from where he ventured leisurely and aimlessly.  
  
A door had opened in his front and out came a dull looking nurse whose main assessment in life must have been to be incredibly ignorant and to disregard things which involve something that will stir the curiosity or sympathy. She did not notice the child by her side as she was busy scribbling on her pad; or if she did notice him, there's a huge probability she chose not to. Off she went to the pseudo lit passages, leaving a door very much available for little Hanamichi.  
  
A force such as a magnet compelled him to move towards the enclosed chamber looming before him. A glass window was on the wall beside the door and a light green curtain could be seen draping from within. He pushed the door open.  
  
Several baby cribs were inside, arranged in rows. The chill air held a queer fragrance, yet it was nearly the same scent that was lingering throughout the area, only it was a bit distinct inside the room.  
  
Somewhere on one of the far corners of the room was a prominent cradle. Hanamichi drew himself near it, climbed up to a chair and to a table beside it. He peeked from above and realized that he was looking at an infant. A beautiful infant with ivory-yellow hair, soft and rosy skin, and an adorably dainty, doll-like figure. He stared at the infant for a long time, contemplating childishly. A tag was hanging on the infant's right wrist. Hanamichi caught a glimpse of it, and for the first time, read it aloud.  
  
"A-an... tohne.. teh.."  
  
Brown eyes met blue and an everlasting bond of love was signed. A bond that would sooner or later avert to an illusive yet docile deterioration of character on either, or both, of them.  
  
[End flashback]  
  
****  
  
The silence was becoming very uncomfortable. Remedios did not know what to say and an unbearable weight seemed to force itself into her chest. Like water from the rim of an overflowing pitcher, tears descended. Her voice came out in choked sobs.  
  
"H-hana... please..." She clamped her mouth, barely trapping the sounds that came out of it.  
  
It was more than Hanamichi could bear. If there's anything he couldn't stand, it's making someone he love suffer. Abruptly his indignation burned out, mortified of his previous attitude. He shifted from his seat to her side and embraced her.  
  
"Gomen nasai... I didn't mean to. Please stop crying," he practically begged in an innocent childlike manner. His encompassing regret was tearfully sincere; and truly he was near to tears. "I'm really sorry. It's just that-- Please stop crying, Remedios!" Then he cried.  
  
It has been long since he cried this way, for this same reason and situation. As of the moment he didn't have much of a clear vision as to what they were crying about; all he knew was that there was something really sad about everything. The question is: what about everything? None of them, not even his mother, made clear of what really is wrong with him. He barely knew half of the story.  
  
"It's ok. I'm alright now," Remedios tried to compose herself. "I just want you to understand. None of us wanted it to happen. I don't want you to blame yourself. I'm sorry if we have to drag you down from your peaceful life; but your Grandma decided to summon you, along with your other cousins."  
  
At this Hanamichi frowned. He looked at his mother but saw nothing that would indicate insincerity. The brash redhead boy of Kanagawa was once again reduced to silence. What was he to say? How would he react? What was he to do? Any moment now, he could turn into some lifeless shell, all hollow inside because of the way his mind felt so light and blank. Worse is his body was unresponsive. This scared the shit out of his conscious normalcy.  
  
"Aa," was his automatic reply. Fuck conscious normalcy! It has been driven out unwittingly to preconscious from the moment he had set foot on this house. Even though he never really had thought of his answer, he knew better than to argue against the only acceptable thing to say, which was nothing more than to conform to his grandmother's wishes. So it's true. The great tensai, known to be the non-conforming, unruly, and juvenile delinquent redhead of Shohoku basketball team, Sakuragi Hanamichi, had considered to be in absolute subservience. But then he did this out of old reflex; it's not like he had wholly thought of it.  
  
"Hanamichi, dear... You never really like this, I know. You have every reason to hate your Grandma for this; but, please, try to be calm and- -"  
  
Hanamichi shushed her instantly. "Shut up. We never really talked about this seriously, Reme. We're not about to start this subject 'cause I'll blow my head off for sure." He leaned a little to his mother for support. "Let's just do what is to do, then get it over with immediately." He chuckled sarcastically to himself. "But then immediately could go on forever at this rate. This is going to be hell."  
  
Remedios sighed resignedly. "Well, if that's that." She began to smile, insinuating a light change of mood. "Now, shall I know how is my precious son doing? Or are you too bent in thinking of other things than telling me of your stories? I heard you were a genius back in Kanagawa."  
  
*Ting, Ting!* went Hanamichi's renewed pride as he heard the magic word. Whether Remedios is a real sly one or not (remember she hadn't been with her son for years), or she just have the knack of plucking the right strings out of a person, one wouldn't have an inkling of such out of initial glance. She looked far respectable to be conniving.  
  
"Nyahahahahahaha!!!!" his infamous laugh retaliated. "Of course, your son's a tensai!!!" The old Hanamichi came back as fast as a flick of the finger and the suppressing mood was lifted from the scene. "I'm Sakuragi Hanamichi, star player of Shohoku!!! Nyahahahaha!!!" The flashes went click, click! all around and bright colored confetti were thrown up in the air. If that didn't seem like out of place, Chibi-Remedios laughed in a high-pitched female version of Anzai-sensei's "ohohoho!!" and clapped her hands gleefully on the background while saying "My son's a genius! My son's a genius!" repeatedly, destroying the demure elegance she possessed some seconds ago. Whether Remedios' existence and appearance proved that there is a certain tensai-ness living within the shell of Hanamichi Sakuragi, or strengthen the fact that the Sakuragis are a bunch of weird crack-ups who have the amazing ability to distract and be distracted in a matter of seconds (in line with their knack for unpredictable and quick mood swings), nobody clearly knew. Or do we really need to find out? Nevermind...  
  
***  
  
Hanamichi sat in front of the computer. Jeantuel had given him a beginner's guide in using a computer to start with since his mother had urged him to learn the apparatus. But he did away with the book when he saw printed in bold friendly letters on the back cover of the book in the lower left corner the words "FOR COMPLETE IDIOTS". Naturally he had tossed it over the balcony. After that he decided to stare at the computer. It took him some minutes to realize that he will not benefit anything from staring hard at it since the poor thing could only stare back at him. Nor will it do good to curse at it since it could only hum at him and by the end, he'll probably have a sore throat. Moments later, due to some heaven-sent miracle from above, Hanamichi got hold of the mouse and started exploring by himself every function he could come across at. He was currently having problems with some accidentally deleted files when the door to his room opened. It didn't take long for him to acknowledge the tall figure by the door.  
  
"Oi!"  
  
Hanamichi blinked, half-disbelieving, half-expecting the haughty grin from across. "Van?"  
  
"It's been a while. A long while, Hana."  
  
"A-a..." He stood up. It didn't surprise him when he had approximated from their distance that Van was some inches taller than him(he); but not greater than nor equal to Gori's height. [Somewhere in Kanagawa-- Akagi: ACHOO!! sniff, sniff...] Though Van was wearing black slacks and coat, and white long sleeves polo from within, unlike Akagi, Van has a far slimmer and more appreciably defined figure.  
  
"Well, is my dear cousin busy tonight?"  
  
"Anou..," Hanamichi glanced nervously at the blinking screen, thinking much of the deleted files. "A-haha.. Not really."  
  
"That's great. Why don't you come with me downtown and have dinner there? It's only 8 o'clock."  
  
"Your treat?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Sure!" Hanamichi beamed.  
  
Van almost laughed out loud, obviously amused. "Come on then." They proceeded along the corridors, passing by the main hall. "How have you been these past years? The last I've heard of you, they say you're a basketball player. How's it going?"  
  
Hanamichi's sudden shyness didn't actually surprised him; but then it will, at a level, surprise a lot others. It was always his initial reaction towards a relative whom he had not seen for a long time; he only needed a little adjustment to cope with it. "Um, yeah... Nothing much.." Surprise, surprise!! Rare moments hearing the Tensai speak humbly of himself! "How 'bout you?"  
  
"Nothing much too. Quitted Cambridge two years ago because they rejected one of my proposals; then went to do modeling for some months. Hey, do you mind if we take some company? I've somebody with me and--"  
  
"Van!" One of the doors of the main hall burst open and from the threshold came one of the most beautiful creatures Hanamichi had ever seen. "I've been looking all over for you." She approached them with floating grace; until her soft brown eyes caught sight of the redhead. She looked inquiringly and sweetly at Van.  
  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Meimei," Van smiled warmly. "By the way, this is Hanamichi, the one I've been telling you about."  
  
"Of course! I see the resemblance," Meimei exclaimed with sincere glee, her long chestnut hair bouncing up and down. She offered her hand to a blushing Hanamichi who took it nervously. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"A-a.. same here," Hanamichi stuttered. He felt a bit shock about what he heard from his cousin and this girl. Who is she anyway?  
  
Meimei was taller than ordinary Japanese girls. She has long bouncy chestnut hair and her eyes where of distinct brown hue. Her soft fair skin seemed to be glowing with vibrancy and her heart shaped face looked very unique. At a different time and place, she could have been one of Hanamichi's cute crushes; but now he felt not a single prospect of attraction. Admiration, maybe; but nothing that could stir him to infatuation. Come to think of it, he hadn't thought of Haruko that much these days; and whenever he does think of her, there wasn't anything special to it anymore. Has too much thinking changed him that much?  
  
Van's car took them swiftly downtown. Hanamichi had gotten out of his adjustment problems and was now ogling through the glass window like a hyperactive kid.  
  
"Oi, are we there yet?!"  
  
"Not yet, Hanamichi," Meimei said patiently for the nth time.  
  
"Will you shut the fuck up!!!"  
  
"I'm hungry!!!"  
  
"Van, don't start!"  
  
"But Meimei!!"  
  
"Van, we invited Hanamichi to dinner. I think you should behave more nicely to him."  
  
"Nyahahahaha!!! Hear that? You should be nicer to me!"  
  
"BAKA YAROU!!!"  
  
The car swerved to the left, then to the right, missed some vehicles, some civilians, posts, street hindrances, some other living carbon-based entities, a red light, and fortunately, a couple of police patrol cars. It was a miracle for them, or for the car mostly, to have survived for long. Luckily they got in a restaurant all intact. Hanamichi ordered a lot on the menu and consumed 3/4 of their entire meal. During dessert, Meimei excused herself from the table.  
  
"So, how long have you two been?"  
  
Startled, Van looked up at him with a spoonful of blueberry cheese cake hanging from the mouth. "Wha--?"  
  
Hanamichi stared long at Van's unruly pink hair. Their family sure prefers weird hair color; but they never really look that bad. They only seem intimidating. "I said how long have you two been?"  
  
Van gaped at him. "How..? When have you--"  
  
"I don't know. I just knew," Hanamichi shrugged, nonchalantly spooning his sundae. The fact didn't really surprise him; the fact that it didn't did. "It's nothing really. You shouldn't worry about me."  
  
Van gradually relaxed. "Um... Five years. Met her here."  
  
Hanamichi nodded. "Does Grandma know?" It was a useless question; nothing escapes his grandmother's notice.  
  
"What do you expect?"  
  
"Fight. Trouble. Hell for you."  
  
"Precisely. They forfeited me from using the surname Sakuragi for years. I only got it back because of the invitation."  
  
"Odd how they never forfeited mine. Where there any compromises made like, say, leave her?"  
  
"Hell, no! Who needs the damned surname?!"  
  
"Right, you are. Ha! They only need us because of our tensai-ness!"  
  
"Another more of your tensai crap and I'll pound you to hell!!!"  
  
"OK, OK!! Drop the spoon already!!"  
  
Van sighed. "You got the invitation too, didn't you?"  
  
Hanamichi wiped out the last of his sundae. "Hai. Reme gave it to me. I couldn't understand. It's a school right? I'm already at Shohoku; I'm not about to leave there!"  
  
"You won't, stupid! You'll only be a part of the program. Shohoku will be your basic academic ground; the other will be something like your organization. Those two parties will have a laissez faire relationship. The program will help you on something more advance and of course, your schooling in Shohoku will be slightly affected. Fortunately, Shohoku will excuse you with regards to the program's activities and your duties."  
  
Hanamichi gulped. "That sounded hard."  
  
"Hm.. Not really. It's just like attending two schools at the same time. One attending to the basics while the other to advance academic program. Sooner or later you'll get used to stress, and pressure, and mental agony."  
  
"But how about basketball! We'll be having a practice game with Ryonan soon."  
  
"Ow... basketball?" Van blinked, looking very amused. "If you get to the Premier team, we could offer you more than Ryonan." There was something in Van's words that gave so much conviction, a promise of fulfillment. Hanamichi could not bear but be entranced.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I assure you. Or my name isn't Vanessa Loswell-Sakuragi," she replied.  
  
-_-;;; TBC  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------  
  
[1] if ever the name sounds familiar to some of you and then suddenly a drama show pops out of the cobwebs of your memory, you may have just hit the jackpot there. yes, i got the name from the drama show. though i haven't seen it actually, when i first heard the name i went like 'O.ohhhh.... nice name @_@!!!!' so i couldn't help it.... hehehe...  
  
(~_~;) so hear i am again. the plots getting out of hand (what plot???) and i'm about to put a sign that says 'THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING' in large neon colored letters. and to all my friends who passed the college exam, CONGRATULATIONS!!! i'm happy, most of us are happy. well, life can't be perfect.  
  
M-i : what could i say? gomen. if ever i startled you or something. next time hopefully there won't be any surprises.  
  
Zeynel : (chibi-Gen-chan tugging on Zeynel's shirt) when's the next chapter of Hidden Reality????!!!! *sob, sob*  
  
(;#_#) 


	9. Stage execution

Disclaimer : don't fanficcers get sick of this?

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 8 : Stage execution

The ball continued its healthy sound against the solid floor. It was already late at night and Rukawa was still in the school gym. He has been practicing, obviously; since the gym had been free these past few days. He was left sweating hard when he finished his special training. The practice they had this afternoon was a bore. Everyone seemed busy at this and that but they were unusually silent. Sure the Gori was there but the atmosphere was different. Everyone seemed indifferent of the silence; all except for a certain ice blue eyed, raven haired boy. He sighed, surrendering to a corner of the court.

He could have sworn he heard the do'aho's booming voice once in the ensuing serenity. When he remembered that the redhead was absent, he concluded that he must have been tired and was therefore hallucinating. And he was not going to affirm Ayako's comment that he, Rukawa, was missing the redhead. He was not missing the do'aho!

An annoying silence beset him; it made him hear more of the imaginary do'aho. Where's the idiot anyway? They're suppose to have a practice game with Ryonan in a month's notice. The do'aho's not about to let this game pass. He was not about to let Sendoh get away. Besides it was his first game since the redhead's return. Surely he was not to miss this. Right?

Why was he worrying about that idiot anyway? He could care less actually. He shouldn't be bothering himself about the do'aho's absence. It's his loss.

Nothing much happened today, nor yesterday, at school. The only notable thing that happened would be the principal's announcement that day. Rukawa could have cared less, actually, only if the commotion didn't involve their former captain which it did. But then it didn't involve basketball so Rukawa cared a little less than what he normally would, out of respect to Akagi. It was some sort of a program, the principal said; an advancement program offered by another school. Some Yusenko High, a new school in Kanagawa. Most of the students hadn't heard of it before. The said school had only been in their district for 4 years and had gone unnoticed by most people. But Rukawa doesn't give a damn anyway; it must have been some other newbie school like Ryukufu. Back to the program, Yusenko was inviting some of their top students, both in academics and co-curricular, to join the program. They also included the top students last year and some others from different universities; that's where Akagi got in to the picture. The students were formally noted by Yusenko High and it seemed the candidates had been thoroughly researched. 

Yusenko High was something new to Shohoku students. Not only was it that there were only about ten to five student in the whole school who knew its existence; but the information about Yusenko was quite arresting. They say that Yusenko High is actually a subsidiary of another lesser known yet highly interesting college. The college itself is a branch of an international university which has other sectors in different parts of Japan. And it's also the school where most of the brains of Japan resides! It so happened that one of the ten or so knowledgable students took an admission test in Yusenko and the geeky squirt conquered the limelight when he bragged that he had passed its initial admission exam. Then someone asked why he didn't study there. Another student brought down the lights on the geeky guy, saying "It's because he didn't pass the second screening." All heads then turned to the new speaker. Rukawa that morning was half-asleep in class, barely understanding the conversation of his classmates. It was the class president who spoke. She said a friend of her took the test and passed the initial screening but failed the second. Mostly 18 out of 20 examinee do fail the second exam. It was like giving a toddler some mean upper year exam, she said. So it was settled; Yusenko High was a haven for geniuses. And Shohoku's former captain, Akagi, was to take the plunge and be screened. 

Rukawa's lips resisted a twitch; his mind somehow reeled over the idea of Hanamichi bellowing about his alleged intellect and demanding to be admitted at Yusenko at once. He shook the image off and proceeded to prepare himself to leave the gym. Before he turned off the lights, he thought he heard someone call him 'kitsune'. He looked around and saw nothing. He kicked himself mentally before leaving. 

***

General science, chemistry, biology, and physics. All of them were piled on one side of Hanamichi. He has been reading them all day dutifully. Passing the program's screening was something of urgency and importance; and it was gravely emphasized by the Mistress, his grandmother. Yes, he had met with her that morning. A very nerve wrecking rendezvous, but it was definitely inevitable. His heart was seized by a powerful hand, imposing control. 

.... Molecular Theory of Matter states that (1) all matter is made up of molecules, (2) molecules are always moving, (3) there are spaces between molecules (4) they attract one another, and (5) most material expand when heated and contract when cooled.....

Shit! Why does he have to study this crap? It's been discussed over and over again since when? 4th, 5th, and 6th grade? That's what Van said when she handed this to Hanamichi. She had given him her old elementary notes up to her present high school books. Lucky for Van she need not worry about the screening test; she's been in since last year and is now one of the prominent seniors and highly respected student leaders. And of course, she's a member of the premiere team. Hanamichi's main goal is to pass the test, get in to the team, and work as fast as he could into senior level. The time allotted for him is 3 months, which in conventional case, would be a feat next to the impossible. Hanamichi has to study within 3 days; what good is that? Hanamichi tossed the notebook in a heap on the floor. He has had enough of the basics of molecules and matter. 

... One of the main causes of water pollution, other than industrial waste, vessel discharge, and domestic sewage, are agricultural runoff and salinization. Agricultural runoff and domestic sewage are largely responsible for euthrophication, a phenomenon that causes virtual suffocation in most aquatic life forms.....

Blah, blah, blah... Boring. Everybody knows that agricultural runoff could result to euthrophication. The tensai knows that. Too much carbon waste could deplete the oxygen resource underwater. To diminish aquatic destruction, an industry needs a very environment-friendly and efficient water treatment plant. Some major industries in Japan had given a lot to water treatment and had been almost successful in achieving a hundred percent efficiency, adding nothing to thermal pollution. Hanamichi scanned the pages of the environmental science book. He had never dreamt of becoming an environmentalist; but the pitiful status of mother earth and its startling effects on human beings left him interested. 

He took another book. This time, on biology.

... Plants probably evolved from green algae called charophytes. For decades, systematists have recognized that green algae are the photosynthetic protists most closely related to plants.....

What exactly is he doing? 

Hanamichi was never used to this sort of academic activity. He was always sure of himself, uncaring. But now there is this urgency. So what's the reason?

He was out to prove himself. Those scrutinizing and discriminating eyes of his grandmother and Aunt Miranda was enough to compel this young man to dare everything in order to sustain his pride, the same pride that presides every Sakuragi. 

'You dare bear the name Sakuragi, eh?' Miranda mockingly stated. 'How pathetic!' She pushed up a finger to her spectacles; her intimidating glare on him. His Aunt Miranda would always look at him like that; her prim and formal eyes boring through Hanamichi. He could only lower his gaze, half fuming and embarrassed, as they interrogated him. He knew not exactly why he was feeling very much nervous; but they always had that effect on him ever since. Shudders would come now and then; he need only to stifle them. 

Of course, Hanamichi was not one to be underestimated. He was after all a typical stubborn Sakuragi, a rightful possessor of the name in every aspect.... except maybe for one trait which is normally uncalled for. He professed his aim to be considered settled: he was to enter Yusenko High's comprehensive Youth Scholastic and Co-curricular Enhancement Program (YSCEP), a prelude in entering the political and scientifically based system of Liwette University. It was decided; and it must be done. He gave up the sciences and indulged himself in the drudgery of Math.

... Points A and B are on opposite sides of Lake Yankee. From a third point, C, is the angle between the lines of sight to A and B is 46.3°. If AC is 350m long and BC is 286m long, find AB.....

Sometime ago he needn't bother himself with this sort of question; and the same time ago he could not perceive a whit of understanding on the same question. But now, the clearness of his mind was seemingly awful and impossible to comprehend. At the mere thought of his unbelievable intellect, he sighed with resolution and picked up a pen to jot down the formula for the law of cosines. 

***

"Oi!" Van popped her head from behind the door. Hanamichi was in the moment busy studying the mechanics of limits and derivatives. The subject wasn't actually hard to comprehend; it's just that he could not see the use of these things in his daily life.

"What?" he half-scowled, half-greeted his cousin. 

"Whacha' doing?"

"Math."

"Ah, Calculus."

"Yeah, whatever..."

"That's pretty easy."

"Of course, it is! It's easy for the tensai!"

"I never said anything. Want me to help you?"

"Are you saying the tensai does not understand what he's reading?!"

"I didn't say that, you said that. It maybe that I'm implying it but I didn't say it. Anyway, I'm just kidding."

"Oh, ok..... HEY!! Now wait a minute!!!"

She leaned over the study table to look at Hanamichi's scratch works which, besides being dirty and almost illegible, proved to be all correct. "Nice work."

"Of course!" Hanamichi grinned smugly. Of course, he was the tensai. What is it that he could not do? Get a girlfriend maybe, but... heck! What's he saying??!!

"Yes. It's well done. But let me suggests an important pointer here. Please, Hana, if you're doing a derivation, don't forget to complete the whole computation rather than just jotting down the factors and without labeling them properly. It's better to write '_f _of _x_' instead of '_y'_; and please don't forget to write the '_x approaches a_' under the '_limit of f of x_'. That way it would be clearly understood."

Hanamichi frowned at his work. "What's the use? They only want the answers, don't they? What difference will it do?"

Van sighed exasperatedly as she walked across the room towards the window. She pulled the curtains open. He did have a sense there. Anyway, she had always felt uneasy with Math subjects even if she's considerably good at it. She was an environmentalist for creep's sake! What good will Math do to her, unless she's doing a field work and checking slopes and angles of earth surfaces? But she doesn't have to deal with computations anyway; what are co-researchers for?

"The difference is you'll get a higher score from it. It's basic pointer, Hana, and very imperative while solving math problems. Our teachers are very strict about that. You can give a little note on your paper after solving saying 'that the whole labeling process is totally absurd' and then 'blah, blah,blah...'. Who knows, they might respond to you-- they usually do. Just make sure that your points are strong enough or else... well, our teachers are mostly smart-asses. They may piss you off if they intend to be excruciatingly smart." She looked back at Hanamichi, leaning her slim body on a small table by the window. Everybody knows that this is not going to be easy for him. He came from a conventional Japanese school: prim, semi-authoritative, public. That's why he stared back at her puzzled, but with openness which could be his guiding strength. Probably there'll be a chance for him to adopt more rapidly than the others. 

"What exactly are you planning to say to me?" 

"Some advice before taking the test."

Hanamichi grunted. "Yeah, whatever...." He irately faced his desk, unwilling to be taught. 

"By the way, Math tests are, as usual, all or nothing," she continued nonchalantly. They always are, she thought grudgingly. 

"What's new about that?" he snapped, fixing still on the desk reading.

Van resisted to laugh out loud. "I know. They require essays too," Van walked towards him. "Mediocrity is considered lame unless your vindication are impressive and convincing or you have contributed another aspect to the subject. Don't be cloying; it's disgusting." She stood by the desk, gluing herself to the spot. "Be radical if you have to. More importantly be original." She had arrested his attention for the time by the way he gave side glances despite himself she thought. "Be frank if you feel like being one. This also applies during interviews. Show that you have the eagerness or at least the appreciation to learn subjects or notions that may seem different and unconventional in society. It's kind of confusing but the bottom line is: you should have a character of your own and not be afraid to show it." 

And now his complete attention is drawn to her. Reclining his back on the chair, Hanamichi attended Van dubiously. He has to say his cousin has a very prominent personality and such an aura does not usually reside in a normal school like Shohoku; and he is saying this with much conviction. She sports herself with simple apparels; and yet however plain, homely, or ridiculous they may seem when donned by others, Van looks a lot refreshing to the eyes whichever of the articles she chooses. Currently she permitted herself a pair of black slacks and a dark blue polo shirt which clung to her fair bosom artfully. Her hair which was unconventionally pink in color had tiny braids dangling carelessly beside her face; and the strands looked like they needed attention; despite all she still looked stylish and alluring. She emitted a confidence and haughtiness that only a Sakuragi could express definably. Her gray eyes express the same shape which was common to their dear clan. Keep her amongst a sea of crowd and you could easily pinpoint her in a second's flash; even if she was wearing a garb of homely plainness. Hanamichi admires her in a way one longs for a figure that one wishes to possess. If only he, Hanamichi, was born like her; it would have been less painstaking. He sighed, scorning himself mentally. 

"And basically why are you saying this to me?" 

She quirked a brow. "To get you pass Yusenko High, dolt! What else?"

Hanamichi snorted.

"Look," Van prompted. "We want you to get in there. And not just in there Hanamichi." She smiled maliciously. She has been doing that for sometime, grinning conspiratorially like a thing so thrilling was about to happen. Hanamichi stared up at her, waiting for the purpose of all that has been happening.

"Ok, you want straight facts?" She wasn't about to beat around the bush like the others. "Our family is one of the main financiers of Liwette. All trained researchers and scholars are absorbed by our companies for their use. We didn't raise brains for nothing, Hanamichi, we practically own them and are obliged to us. The companies are expanding and we need trained and intelligent people with us." Her voice was of low, secretive tone accentuated by something of an insane excitement. Van, despite her outward free spirit, was just like him, controlled and attached to the name Sakuragi. It was clear to Hanamichi that she wasn't totally of her own; to think how similar they are! 

"What does this got to do with me?!" That question still remained unanswered. He never expected to be a part of this. If they held him so in much contempt as he thought they did then why does he have to be involved? Confused as he may, he knew Van was not the person to ask this.

"How should I know? What ever came to you to agree with this anyway?" she backfired, equally thrown off. "Look, just do it. Just pass the da-- just pass the test, ok? I'll teach you how to draft term papers and proposals tomorrow. Wake up early." With that she preferred to leave the room, leaving Hanamichi more vexed than he was before. He gave up a breath; this would be harder than he thought.

***

It was half past twelve. The hall was accordingly dark and the shadows were hovering along it like spirits from a surreal time. Everyone seemed to be slumbering in the depths of it all, except for one red headed soul. Hanamichi was still wide awake, immune to the darkness with only a patient light to guide him on his task. Conditional probability was at first confusing; but while reading the examples a couple of times and doing a little exercise for himself, he found out that it was a bit like permutation and combination and visualization dawned at him. 

Stat gave him more headache than expected, so he closed his eyes and rubbed his sore temples. While performing some head exercise, turning his head left and right, he caught a glimpse at the picture on the bedside table. There a big framed photograph of Shohoku team lay silently, looking back at him in remembrance of what he had left at Kanagawa. From the dimness of the room he could distinguish his team mates faces vividly, wondering of their occupation at this unholy time. Obviously they're tuck snugly in their bedrooms, sleeping soundly. Especially that stupid kitsune. He's probably down on a coma, drooling his head off. Hanamichi snorted. "Baka kitsune..." he muttered low on his breath. Irately he tore his gaze away from the piercing eyes of the blue eyed boy, only to be replaced by another azure eyes glowing with juvenile gleam which touched the very bottom of his heart. The photo from Jeantuel was fixed closely on the study... beside him. Hanamichi stared at the young blond boy from his youth fondly. He already felt lightheaded and fuzzy, cleared off of the constant worry at hand. Pushing himself of the table, he decided to rest, clicked off the lights, and headed for the bed. Antoinette and his picture was placed complacently on the other bedside table.

***

Three days had passed and the special exam of Yusenko High came. The exam starts at 8 a.m. and by 7:30 students were already swarming the huge lobby. Yusenko Kanagawa High School, located near the outskirts the prefecture, was grand, one adjective to describe simply the unspeakable aura surrounding the place. The area was twice the capacity of normal schools. The main building impresses an English structure with huge, seemingly archaic arches and huge brick stones. The front lawn was laden along side the pathways with delicately trimmed bushes and flowers. Yusenko Kanagawa was startlingly big for more or less 500 students. Each class has a normal capacity of twenty and some special rooms have the maximum of fifty. There were about 17 accessible laboratories around the campus, excluding the other Yusenko branches which the students can also use. Liwette University was just one wall away from its high school counterpart. It has been told that there were no barriers hold on both campuses; they can freely comply with each other. 

There are three screenings for the said exam. First is the normal entrance exam. Within a week's time the results would be given and another screening would be held immediately. This time a comprehensive screening would proceed; and the very last is the interview and such other unknown supplementary of this odd program. Akagi was already there as early as possible. Some Shohoku members gathered themselves to bid their support for the former captain. They were quite surprise to see some familiar faces amongst the crowd like glass boy Hanagata of Shoyo, obnoxious Miyamasu of Kainan and some other basketball athletes they know or hear to be intellectuals. Such a stir this event showed to be a phenomenon for Kanagawa folks for it was at the same time engaged on different cites. 

Miles from them the same assembly was conjured in the city of Naha where Yusenko Naha was already established long before the branch in Kanagawa. The rumpus was less since its far off capital island. The facilities were just the same as that of Kanagawa's but the physical structure differed since Naha was a bit more on the modern architecture. Nevertheless, the atmosphere has the same mysterious air compounded by its inhabitants. On that same city a certain red head merged himself among the crowd pretty much determined to rule them all out.

***

Sapporo, Japan.....

He felt chill on his spine. They had finished half of the exam required by noon, and it was only a matter of urgency for them to have a break. A fancifully colored white and yellow ballpen played between his thumb and middle finger in a display of tactful maneuvering. The other hand busied itself with a stray lock, twirling it continuously with a finger until it curled beautifully beside his face. It was a sunny day, the temperature no different from where he came from; yet the air and country struck him thoroughly, like a lovely fragrant suffocating him to his merry death. Oh, how he would love to burst, scream, and run so badly! Run to where his juvenile heart is at, down south. He knew it: '_he'_ is down south. What an irony this gives; now he knows what they meant when they say, 'so close, yet so far'. He admitted he could have laugh at it given different circumstances, if only it didn't involve '_him'_. 

Instead of getting acquainted with some of the students, or feasting over his meal, he stopped his hand from meddling the cute ballpen and took out a notebook. There he spilled out his suppressed sentiments and anticipations.

'I am happy yet I am sad. I am here and you are there. For years this has been the closest I could get to you; but I could not help but hope. Squelching this last straw of hope is like taking the very heart of me, crushing it with strength of cruel indignation until I bleed miserably and die of insufferable agony. I could not possibly cease hoping; you know it will kill me. And then I wonder, is this a horrible trap set out for me? To hope on a hopeless dream so I may crush down to oblivion when they deliver to me the dreaded sentence? It is infuriating! They play me as if I'm a mere toy, a demented puppet for their amusement. They did not choose to give me the death I deserved, instead they have maliciously trampled my emotions! How could they?! I only wanted to be with you, was that too much to ask?' The door opened and swallowed in a prim looking instructor carrying a bundle of papers. It was already time to start the next exam. Stopping tear to fall down his eyes, he jotted down the last sentence he could think of. 'And yet here I am, a complete fool and still at their mercy. I tried to be strong; no-- I will be strong. My soul may suffer and it may die; oh, I may be exaggerating things but when it stabs the very heart of me-- Dear me! I must think positively; at the moment I know you're in the same condition as I am; it is fanciful to think that we are taking the exam at the very same moment. That is enough to make my weary heart flutter up to seventh heaven. I will not give up as I promised, oniichan. I shall see you again..... Hanamichi....' 

-_-;; TBC

___________________________________________

(~_~;) ok, hello..... finally..... *sigh* this will take me long. a lot of technicalities in this chapter. nothing much.... still misted with confusion.... my writing's starting to sound like Anne Shirley on the latter part, but one doesn't give a f***.... 

M-i : i think i'm apt to break my promise to you one way or the other.... ehehehehe.... =P

starsong : i'm happy that you're happy... ^_____^ i hope you continue to be happy.... no need to say sorry.

fiery frost : enlightenment?? well, let's just see. i've to provoke my hands for it (*kisses hands*). 

keli : Woah!! that comment blew me off! i am trully honored. there will be HanaRu and HanaxAntoinette.... I am torn but there will be romance, if you would want to call it that..... i'm not good with romance actually, but I dare make one. don't worry.... i'm glad you liked it... 

bentoh : why, thank you... sorry to keep you waiting.... hehe...

mischief14 : the last line on chapter 7 was actually intended to reveal Van's gender; and yes, van is a girl... i apologized for somehow leading you astray. it's a bit HanaRu. i hope you continue reading this. =D

Alexandra : of course, i will write on..... 

Maria- chan : well, here it is.... a bit on someone (you probably know who) on this chap.... *wink* 

well, these notes are supposed to be on the top of the page but i can't seem to distort my momentum and formal layout. so these notes would be stuck at the both..... (^_^;;) 


	10. Antoinette

Disclaimer : People are sensible enough to know what I own and what I don't....

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

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CHAPTER 9 : 

_She reluctantly gave the number to him. And the boy glare at her with equal contempt though it faded as soon as the card showed a familiar character written on it. In a flash he found himself out of the room, card in hand, searching for the nearest phone._

***

The smell of coffee flitted through his senses and infiltrated the surrounding. They were brewing it up in the stewardess' cabin to his request. Hanamichi was exhausted, mentally exhausted. He passed. No need to elaborate; remembering it would give him a headache. All he knew was that they told him he passed, with flying colors, they say. Now this confused him so? The egotistic part of him says why doubt it when he's the tensai; but then Hanamichi didn't finally get a chunk of brain for nothing, the reality got him totally perplexed. 

He tried to face the recent facts. Everybody knows he wasn't actually, er, some kind of a, well, 'genius'; he admitted much to the depletion of his pride. Yet the fact persisted to reveal to him an unbelievable result that even he could not completely grasp. Hanamichi took the exam with as much confidence which was expected of him; too much of his irritating confidence came actually, pissing off neighboring examinees successfully. A lot of students cleared out his path as soon as they heard his booming voice along the corridor, not daring to collide with the looming trouble that the red head could presumably cause. Oddly enough he wasn't prohibited on doing his own seemingly scandalous merriment; instead he was, to a doubtful hallucinating level, conjured by the faculties and ushers inconspicuously. What Hanamichi thought should have been reprimanding greetings were miraculously replaced by gestures of cordial concessions and conversational exchanges. The staff smiled at him and converse with him in an air of parallel coexistence which the redhead, who was becoming conscious of the unusual treatment, courteously repaid in an equal and unusual degree of mansuetude. The instructors seem to welcome his character and exhibited in themselves some eccentricities that were something Hanamichi had never yet encountered. 

__

The instructors were open to his noise; and if he hadn't known better, his constant ludicrous quirks (humiliations, mind you) seem to amuse them immensely. Some of these peculiar instances were increasingly obvious and totally unexpected. There was this lady teacher who keeps looking and smiling at him. Hanamichi gazed at his sides to check the direction of her stare, but it seems that they were directed at him. Being the old redhead, he was overflowing with pride. At last somebody had taken notice of him. The only not-so-comfortable side of this was that the teacher kept hovering around his table, stopping near his desk too often than needed, and then showering him with cloying attention. It's something good, owing to his pride. Unfortunately, either he was not used to it or the attention given to him is by someone he did not personally know nor fondly like, Hanamichi felt very much uneasy. Despite the apparent voluptuousness of the said lady, she was not the type to convey an effect on him (he's still an innocent do'aho after all, uncorrupted by worldly images). 

While he was busy doing his sciences, another teacher, a male, distracted him by suddenly touching his hair. Hanamichi was slightly offended by this; expectedly, his reaction was by far loud. He could have dared the handsome young pedagogue to a fight, only that the latter vanquished his uncalled for temper with an apologetic smile saying that he got attracted by the color of Hanamichi's hair. Of course, this goes for a point to the redhead's larger-than-life pride. He's had a new hairstyle that day, courtesy of his beloved cousin, Vanessa, and her best friend, Meimei. Yesternight was a night of gradual change, both physically and characteristically. The two girls had with them a group of parlor staff to do him a make-over. They advised him not to use hair gel and refrain as much as possible to the current hairstyles that boy's prefer. His hair was let loose, all soft and silky directing downwards. It was almost like the kitsune's style, though more delicately and seductively arranged. That morning he just had the urge to apply hairspray; luckily he was prevented by Van and she strongly admonished him not to ruin his hair through promises of a slow and painful death. 

The students, dressed in civilian clothing, were another queer bunch, either that or he was never used to friendly reception. Commonly when Hanamichi goes to show his brash attitude, people would disapprove of him scornfully; and some would scamper away from him permanently: a deeply saddening treatment, if one considers it thoughtfully. Yusenko students met him with vigorous enthusiasm, hardly dissuaded by his uncouth character and startling appearance, nor by the negative glances the other examinees bore him. Once he dared ask, the day after the first screening when he was out strolling downtown, a short sweet young lad from Yusenko who was one of the ushers he had met, as to their opinion of him. The boy only raised his head up to him, smiling with apparent fondness and oozing cordiality --a feature breathtaking to behold if one favors sweet things-- then in a flawless tone replied in subtlety. "_It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye_[1]_. _Does it not sound good? I've read it once out of a novel," was his idle words. Hanamichi was about to bellow over his nonsensical fancy when the boy spoke. "I think I like you." He paused. "Though you're a bit brash and loud, I think you're a good guy. Your eyes show it; they look very innocent." Those words stuck him. It was the first time someone told him straight-out that he's being like. Though, of course, it came from a guy; but not even Haruko could say outright something like that, whether implied as lovers or friends. Hanamichi was temporarily speechless. Here was infront of him, an average looking youngster of the same age, staring and speaking up at him boldly, when others of the same age would have cowered shamelessly at the mere sight of his ominous hair and towering height. 

Enough of those queer folks and let us venture to queerer incidents. Of all the students from in and around Okinawa, from the nearby islands of Anami-Oshima downsouth to Yonaguni, only six students passed the screening in Yusenko Naha. It was phenomenal, considering that Hanamichi was one of them; and queerer to consume was the rumor spreading that some of them were to be considered to the premiere level, the best among the whole Yusenko system. Shocking would have been a cliche word to say if one tells that Hanamichi was one of the three who got into the elite level. Dumbfounding would have to be the newer word. As Van had said after the results were all acquired, "They say Yusenko students are the cream of the crop. When you're inside and among the elite, you're the top cream." 

The other two who were considered in the level were known to him; much more, to his surprise, they were related. One was Van's younger sister, Mary Anne; the other was Luthiana Hikaru, daughter of his Aunt Sonomi, third eldest sister of Remedios. 

If Van has the poise of a model, Mary Anne, or Yan[2], Hanamichi's pet name for her, is a doll. A seemingly lifesize, frigid, walking, talking mold of a doll. She's almost the opposite of Van, in terms of style and manner. Yan has a short(cut to her shoulders) and very straight hair, shining midnight black with oriental touch. Her dark almond eyes could stare down a live bomb like it was an old boring stump she'd seen for most of her life; she gives an air of apathy and closeness, unlike Van who seems to be cheerful and open. On the first day of examination in Naha, people gazed at her in wonder for she emitted a mysterious aura with her delicate porcelain face and contrasting dark clothes; a Goth doll if described. On her desk she went, back straight, knees and feet together, hands on lap, eyes on table, resembling a static Japanese doll. She wore a plain dark violet dress which was to her knees and black stockings, yet she was pretty to behold. All the while Yan was quiet, raising her head only when needed so, mostly when the instructors were speaking and once when Hanamichi had called her. She stayed in Canada for sometime and had only came to Japan because of the test. Quiet and behaved were the most common initial description of her; but being a Sakuragi, looks _have_ to be deceiving. In actuality, Yan is only 14 years old, having the same height as Miyagi. But there's more to her than meets vital statistics and appearance.

Luthiana Hikaru is one of Hanamichi's cousins who actually stayed in Japan. Though her father was from Gisborne, New Zealand, Luch decided to stay in Ishigaki to continue, they say, her poetic relationship with the sea. An inch taller than Van, she has almost the same muscular built and age(19 yrs. old). Her boyish hair is ragged though, highlighted by brown strands. Her skin's a bit brown, natural for a daughter of the sea. Tomboyish and quite loud for a female, she's a bundle of smiles and confidence. At first meeting, Luch and Hanamichi have already bonded well together (of course, the nickname came from Hana himself), even back when they were kids. Her manner is carefree and light that one would not be much scared to approach her. She loves to talk to people, regardless of whoever they are; and she's quick to find common grounds for conversation. 

The three of them had confirmed the Yusenko branch in which they will install themselves; whether the result was an unexpected crack of fate, they all had filed for the Kanagawa branch. So that's the story and Hanamichi's present location resolved him there. 

He was sitting near the window on his Kanagawa unit, his head propped backwards on the saddle, contemplating --or rather enjoying the time given for thinking nothing at all-- his troubled existence. Whiffs of air coming through the window almost lulled him to sleep. Nearly he drifted to subconscious; and pressing matters resided slowly to dimness. Soft whistles from the wind comforted him. They were like music to his ears, until he actually heard tunes, loud and distinct ones.

His mobile phone rang.

He picked it up sleepily, grumbling under his breath. "Moshi moshi."

"Hana-chan!"

The thought of sleep left him as fast as a blink of an eye, Hanamichi's heart froze at the very instant and it threatened to explode unless he regain the knowledge of proper breathing. 

Automatically, the name flowed out of his lips like sweet music to his own ears. 

"Antoine....."

Holding one's breath is a painful task, especially if shock has rendered the automatic mechanisms of the body to a not-more-than-a-minute halt. In which case Hanamichi's chest nearly collapsed, much the same as the person on the other line. It was when the pain became intolerable that he decided to gather his wits. Antoinette, on the other line, must have done the same as he spoke first. "Anou.... Hana-- 'niichan...." He was on the verge of crying. 

Hanamichi did not know what to do; should he scream, cry, laugh in joy? He could only gasp for air and shake. It would not do them good, nor would any gesture be of great necessity for them, he thought. Sighing, he decided to make things calm, though it was awfully hard to bear. "You've called me 'niichan again. I'm not your brother," he chuckled. "You're excited; calm down." Never had his Kanagawa friends, not even his gundan, heard him speak with such softness and affection as what he had delivered just moments ago. If the Gori had heard him or even saw him, one would bet he'd cry out of sheer disbelief. 

Antoinette was apparently sobbing. "S-sorry... Hana-chan!" 

"Don't cry. It pains me."

"Why should I not? It has been seven years and I'm horribly lonely. Though I was strong, believe me, I am. I never broke my promise!" he muttered hysterically. "I was just glad to talk to you again, Hana-chan."

"I know; I never doubted you," was his only reply. Smiling as he was, he felt a dreadful pang like a stab within him. "Where are you?"

"Sapporo. They've called me."

Hanamichi closed his eyes. They never told him; even Remedios didn't. He never had thought that Antoine would be included. He was delighted and saddened all at once. "Sou desu..."

There was a suffocating pause, disrupted constantly by Antoinette's gasps and sighs. It had been seven years indeed, cruel hard seven years. Hanamichi severely willed himself, despite the tempting desire to laugh and cry all at once. It would make Antoinette excited further and that is something which he was trying to avoid. Nevertheless, tears flowed down his cheeks; his smile flashing bitter sweet. 

"H-how are you, Antoine?" Hanamichi nearly faltered; vain was his attempt, he dearly knew. The younger boy was a sharp one; he's the only one who could read him like a book, and alter the very pages which he had carefully constructed for so long. 

"Fine..." he briefly replied; after that, they plunged into comfortable silence. There was not much words to speak of.....

***

'Twas a fine day indeed for Shohoku students as they crowded along the path which leads to their destination. Along the same path, a tall broad figure with a mass of fine red hair trudged in awkward stance. People eyed him in wonder; a few hardly recognized him; but most of the lot saw something new in him. 

Hanamichi was not suppose to come this soon. He had only been gone for some three and a half weeks; and after three days --in time for him to play at the practice game-- he'd again be gone. After the exam, he flew back to Kanagawa for an orientation. He was careful in hiding from his friends or anyone he knew there. The reason for his absence must yet be kept. 

They showed them, the qualified students, the facilities which they could use. Liwette University was also available for them. The faculties were introduced and they had a heart-to-heart talk with the principal, with Hanamichi ending up calling the principal an 'old hag'. The Kanagawa students were as cordial and delightful to greet him as the Naha did, and were equally queer. He had signed up for the long distance support program where they were given modules instead of going to school themselves to hear lectures. The support program is convenient for students who are always on the go. They would give Hanamichi modules as long as he needs it, whether he would attend the lectures or not. He had only subscribed in minor classes; the major ones he is still trying to place in schedule. Of course he had chosen the course he'd like to be in. But this will be dealt with some time later.

Strange it may seem, how Shohoku students would look at him right now. Hanamichi glared at them; he was not a freak show for pete's sake! 

The gundan gaped at him to his utter annoyance. What was it with the world today??!!! Can't they just keep their eyes to themselves? Youhei was the most stunned. Hanamichi came in like a fresh breeze in the usual shore of Kanagawa, almost foreign and changed. Though it still held in figure the same redhead, there was a deep lingering force enveloping his being, something new, something that was then residing down within and was awaken and now flaunting its presence unknown to the redhead. His hair was brought down, unhindered, in soft cascades framing his fine features. The uniform he wore became stately and respectable in unspeakable aspects instead of the simple uniform that everyone wears. Bringing forth their concerns, they ask him so of his unannounced leave; only Hanamichi turned aside their questions as if his sudden disappearance was too trivial to evoke worries on them.

Shohoku students stared at him, whispered of him, and fancied him. Calls like "Is that Sakuragi?" or "What happened to him?", "Where did he go off to?", "I didn't know he looks good", "Wow! He's cool", or "He smells sweet!" rang from corner to corner of Shohoku until these came to the ears of the other basketball members. 

Hanamichi went to class and was loud as usual. That one didn't change, though others would stare at him in interest. No one dared to ask him where he was off, seeing that he headbutted the gundan whenever they pestered him about it. 

The gym was rendered quiet. Hanamichi greeted them with the usual hollering, calling everyone by their pet names, insulting the Gori, picking a fight with the kitsune, laughing his head off, and running over to Haruko; nevertheless, they silently acknowledged the eccentricity of his act. There was something different about him, a thing which they could not name of. 

Blue eyes watched him behind raven curtains. Rukawa, among all others, was disturbed. He was a bit glad at first (though he'd die first before he admits it even to himself) hearing that Hanamichi has come; yet he nearly fainted when he saw him. Hanamichi seemed like a different person; unfortunately for Rukawa, he was probably the only one who could put it in words. The redhead was oozing with charm, and this is speaking in magnitude. The way he walked, talked, laughed... They may look the same which they are; but the additive was the appeal. He had no idea what caused the aura; he could have cared less; however it was completely disturbing. Ayako was also stunned, flabbergasted even. The sensitive manageress must have sensed it faster than Rukawa had, or maybe she had detected more changes. 

It came to pass that while Hanamichi was shooting some hoops, a polyphonic tune resounded throughout the gym, causing all to fall their attention to the bench where the discordant call was heard. Hanamichi suddenly dropped the ball that he was holding, dashed to the bench, grabbed his bag, fished out something, and ran out of the gym. The sound fainted then completely stopped, replaced by Hanamichi's indistinct voice coming from outside. Everyone was puzzled as they went back to their practice. Ayako was the only one who took a peek of Hanamichi, to see what was amiss. 

Her eyes grew marginally. The do'aho was _smiling_! She wasn't suppose to react much about it; it was just a smile. And yet there it is still, Hanamichi smiling, not grinning! Not in the idiotic way; but in a dead drop charming way! His honey eyes were brilliant; his smile mild and delicious; his hair swaying silkily to his every movement; his face innocently beautiful, blooming as they would put it. 

He was talking to someone, that she could clearly see for the most obvious reasons. Hanamichi looked alleviated. 

"So what happened?" He asked fondly, smiling and laughing in between pauses, thoroughly happy he looked. 

"Really?" he would say in a jesting tone. Then afterwards he would say about what happened to him, giggling like a girl if something funny came out. The conversation lasted for half an hour; though at the tone of Hanamichi's goodbye, he was unwilling to let go; and neither did the other line so as it seemed by their long and reluctant farewell. 

Hanamichi's heart-stopping smile did not once falter as he faced Ayako; and as he went back to the gym, it stayed for long, radiant and wistful. The others were as confused as hell. 

***

"Oi!!" Hanamichi's flaring hair bobbed up and down among the crowd, until his whole body emerged out of it. 

WHACK! said Mr. Paperfan, accompanied by another voice saying "YOU'RE LATE, SAKURAGI!" 

The train was already there. All was well except Hanamichi's head which is not uncommon considering that he has been late. It was their practice game with Ryonan. They all went in silently, except again Hanamichi who was ranting about injustice done and unpunished and blah blah blah...

Akagi, Kogure, and Mitsui also came. Mainly to give off support and partly to see the redhead. They've receive news of Hanamichi's return and his unusual behaviors; quietly, they were somehow intrigued. They too noticed the certain unknown change. Whatever it was, it was there, tangible to sense. 

Inside the train silence reigned. Tensed silence. And the one who caused the tense was none other than Sakuragi. After Akagi had introduced once again his Gori punch to him, Hanamichi merely grumbled, glared, then indulged himself in a maddening silence. His eyes were to the window, to the sea, right infront of him, listlessly looking pass Kogure. He looked dreadfully solemn, ridiculously pensive in other words. However, the word 'ridiculous' seems to falter much in Hanamichi's case once it exceeds normality. The silence was nerve-wrecking that a pin would have dropped and they'd all get started.

A pin dropped. Or rather a tune rang. They got started.

Hanamichi was startled by a sound coming from his duffel bag. The song from the Nutcracker came in polyphonic. Getting his mobile phone, a flash of glimmer went to his eyes. He opened the fliptop[3] and his smile grew wide. 

"Oi, you called..." There was gentleness in his form and tone. Instantly he got up and scurried to the empty end of the trailer. His tone and expression invoked another dumbfounding impression on his companions that they wondered greatly who his mysterious caller is. 

"I wish you were here," Hanamichi whispered, straining not to be heard. He was feeling deeply sad; therefore he knocked himself mentally for wishing too hard.

"I hope so," came the reply. "Goodluck." 

"Yeah, thanks. " Hanamichi smile genuinely once more. "Ja..."

He turned to his seat with a sweet smile lingering his lips, totally oblivious of the shocked stares thrown at him. At the sea he looked, at the window just behind Kogure, seeing pass Megane-kun. His eyes brilliant like the twinkling of the sunlight on the surface of the sea; lips curving delicately. He stared peacefully at the sea.

***

The practice game of Ryonan versus Shohoku began. A lot of audience flocked in Ryonan's sports hall to watch the awaited event. It was natural, of course, since the teams involve are those vouching for this year's Inter High tickets. The first five were choosen; and to the great dismay of some fans, Hanamichi was not included. Surprisingly, Hanamichi was not _overly _affected by this. Well, he ranted at first, pulling on Coach Anzai's extra fat; but then it did not last long: he actually stopped and sat quietly. After that it was known to all that something was wrong with the redhead. 

There were moments that he would seemed to be jolted back to present; then he would continue to be his old self, shouting insults and this and that. Still after that, he would gradually sink back to some unknown abyss that only he could conceive, to cryptic silence. He would not take notice of the game for some time; until an insult or a nudge would bring him to the real world. Even the Ryonan players acknowledged this, most especially Sendoh who at one instance tried to drew Hanamichi out by 'accidentally' flinging the ball to him; thus giving the redhead a concussion he deserved. 

Minutes went by. Hanamichi sat pensive, elbows to thighs, palms and fingers pressed parallel together, stooping forward, staring at the floor, or at nothing in particular. His brows formed a scowl as he glanced up the score board. 

49-45. Ryonan leading. 

He said nor thought of anything about it, as if it was immaterial. He turned to look hard among the crowd, his gaze lost there. He thought he saw locks of yellow behind the crowd, though it disappeared from his sight. Those lovely orbs searched longingly; succumbing to defeat, they turned down disappointed. 

'He's not coming.' He had to repeat it over and over to his head, itching to bang that part on somewhere hard. Constraint held him. 

Second half was done. Both teams proceeded to their respective bench. 

"Oi, Rukawa-sempai!" Ichiro called. "Nice play. You scored most of the points this half." 

"Aa.." he muttered low.

"Hmp! I bet the tensai could score more points than you. Just wait till I get in, you stupid fox!" Hanamichi bellowed. He's coming into terms with the game now, mainly because it seems that Anzai-sensei has been saving him in the next half. Practically it was useless to stall Hanamichi from the game. He has got the stamina and keeping him in for the rest of the game wouldn't disable him, unless it turns brutally physical; nothing could stop him. 

Then came Coach Anzai's turn to speak. "Abe-kun," came his mild paternal voice. "You did a good job; nevertheless, you will rest on the coming half. I can see that you are getting weary." He gazed at his left, zoning in on Hanamichi. "You will replace him, Sakuragi-kun."

"Nyahahaha! Mochiron! It's time for the tensai to shine. I will defeat that Smiley once again Nyahahaha!!"

"Do'aho."

"Teme!!!"

"Your back, you idiot," Rukawa said, out of nowhere. 

"N-nani?!" 

He averted Hanamichi's inquiring eyes. "How can someone with a lame back be able to defeat Sendoh? I think you should spend your time pondering that on your monkey head. You won't stand a chance, not a mite of chance."

Those words struck Hanamichi like a dagger to his pride. He was gravely infuriated. Grabbing with both hands the fabric near Rukawa's neckline, he was intending to inflict the kitsune mercilessly. If only he could dispose his remaining civility, if only just once he could be given -for just a minute- the privilege to send Rukawa to hell. "Yarou Rukawa!" he hissed. That was all he had to say as he pushed the raven haired boy away from him. He hated Rukawa... like hell he did and he woudn't let it pass, not in the usual way. A plan struck him. 

From the other side of the gym, a pair of blue eyes were fixed on Hanamichi. He had heard from Hikoichi about the redhead's disappearance and wondered why so. By the look on his face, he's finally going in on the game. Sendoh felt excited; there must be something new about him this time. 

***

Sendoh had the ball with him. Shohoku was in defense position with Rukawa guarding him. That was the scenario given on the first action of the second half. In swift movement the Ace of Ryonan escaped from Rukawa's hands, dashing to the goal. He encountered Kobayashi after that and he averted him skillfully, when immediately a hand had tampered the ball out of his hand just as he was to deliver a shot. It was Hanamichi. Before he could even realized, the redhead was nearing half court; Miyagi was already on the fore court by that time. From then on, Hanamichi displayed unbelievable speed and agility. Had his stay on the bench for long caused this? Or was it his recuperation process? 

Shohoku is planning something. That is what the Ryonan members were thinking. Not because Anzai-sensei seemed a lot more pleased than ordinary throughout the whole game or because he had detained Rukawa too for ten minutes during the second half to regain his strength. The tension was caused by the redhead... again. 

_Dead silent_ would have to be the word. And that is what the redhead was fairly doing, being dead silent. He neither bellowed nor cursed nor glared nor called people by their pet names; he didn't even try to congratulate his teammates whenever they do well. It was suspicious and downright scary. 

Hanamichi literally set the pace of the game. He was quick to go back and forth, never doing anything to delay the process. He hardly had a foul called on him. The crowd would cheer in awe whenever he makes a successful shot --a thee pointer, a dunk or a lay up-- , turning his heels instantly to their side of the court after assured of the point. Not a bit of exaggerated gesture nor expression surfaced; whether he's happy to have made a shot, a rebound, or a block, no one could clearly say; he did not express it. He paid attention less to his team mates; it was only when he passed the ball to them will they know that he acknowledged them still. Eye contacts are mostly exclusive for whoever is guarding him. His face drew nothing; his eyes were seemingly cold; this made him very much unreadable than he already was from the first place.

Deep inside Hanamichi was excited. He had watched Yan enough to copy her blank expression and his mind had been liberated enough of social complications in Yusenko High to be able to entreat certain characteristics in him. Therefore he was not to be called a narrow-minded redhead with a simple mind. He suddenly had a thing for acting and a natural talent for it. Since he started in Yusenko, he had learned many things about himself. He could react differently to different people. Negative treatment begets negative result; positive begets positive; sometimes negative begets positive or vice versa; that is what he had discovered. Yusenko students were dear to him; and in return he was dear to them. The company of Yusenko was the one he had been craving for. They never judged him merely by his appearance, never marked him as an outsider, a violator. They looked pass his flaring hair and brash punk attitude and saw clearly the child that was there, the one that craved proper respect and attention. Meeting them, those fresh and open-minded individuals, had improved his capacity to emphatize, to draw out the various personalities in his person. He found out that he could be sweet, charming, calm, and intelligent. That he's not the only one cooped up in the social maltreatment. That is what they kept showing to him: that he's never alone..... He never had been. 

Sendoh eyes were held captive by his brown orbs. Be it Sendoh or somebody else from their team, his gaze held theirs with equal severity. Whoever they are, Hanamichi didn't mind at all. He has to show them one and all what Sakuragi Hanamichi can do. 

Smiley was guarding him. Miyagi to left guarded by Koshino; Fukuda blocking Rukawa; Kobayashi coming from the back interfered by another Ryonan player. He need to get the ball pass Sendoh, give it maybe to the others, if he could. 

'Annoying,' thought Sendoh. Hanamichi's eyes were completely fixed on him; nevertheless he could not read his thoughts. The redhead was transforming into something lethal. With those piercing brown orbs to him, he could not tell who among them will he pass the ball to. 

He has to do it, now. In a matter of seconds Hanamichi broke the eye contact, side glanced at Rukawa who was currently open, readied the ball in one hand for delivery accompanied by the misleading footwork; then abruptly he turned his head to Miyagi, now open, and raising his hand together with the ball, as the enemies' thoughts zeroed in on Miyagi in a split second, Hanamichi pushed forth his hand to the captain's direction..... 

.... But Hanamichi's hand only pushed air; yet everyone assumed that the ball was suppose to have reached the small captain's hands. The ball was left rolling in midair, on the initial spot where it was supposed to have been launched. They all had been played fool by the redhead as in a flash he retrived the ball. And before Sendoh could stop him, he had already jumped, delivering a shot.

SWOSH! It went, making points for Shohoku. 

There were loud cheers, gasps, and applause coming from the crowd. And the delight heightened when on the next scene Hanamichi having stolen the ball from Ryonan, in attempt for a fast break, threw the ball from the backcourt to the forecourt. But it seemed that he aimed too high and none of the Shohoku players could reach it. Then something unexpected happened.....

SWOSH! 

The ball was in and the crowd went wild. A wild struck of good luck indeed! Sakuragi Hanamichi was setting the game to his very will. 

*** 

The game ended. 93-90. Shohoku's win. 

The crowd applauded while Shohoku rejoiced, shouting and jumping in joy.

"Unbelievable..." Hikoichi gaped at the eerily silent form of Hanamichi, standing immobile in a corner; his head tilted upwards, eyes closed.

Sleep was nearing; he was horribly tired. Oh, yes, he is still Hanamichi with the known stamina. But stamina is also prone to dullness once overused. After all attending two schools at almost the same time is quite tiring, even if you think of it. He has been sleeping late for weeks; tons of work have been piling up his desk. Modules, textbooks, reference books, thesis, and term papers were littered; papers have to be prepared within the deadline, proposal too. And drafts! 

Yusenko's a great school; but it's also a great slaver-driver. If the students were average teenagers, they wouldn't stand a chance. Pressure here, pressure there. They expect too much from the students. 

Damn! Why do they have to entrust a staggeringly big responsibility on him? Of all the people! He sighed, retrieving himself before he succumb to stupor. He's not a regular student there. The program stipulated that participants are not allowed to hold student positions in clubs or anywhere within the range of the student government, unless they decided to shift to Yusenko and be regular students. Though they could acquire positions in temporary and non-formal committees, or be regular members of the clubs, just as long as it's not a part of the leading position. They could also handle faculty-assigned positions, in which case Hanamichi was given the General Managerial Arbitrator seat. The Middleman they claim. He's partly a student representative, partly their manager, but mostly the school administration's emissary to arrange student concern. The Arbitrator collects, refines, and reports data and claims of students, as well as, gives, implements, and informs students of the decree sent by the administration, the university, or any sectors outside the student government. 

Usually the General Managerial Arbitrator position is occupied by a regular student designated by the principal. The position in the Kanagawa branch had been long vacant because students were deeply appalled of the various and difficult stress the responsibility carries. Since then, students have to undergo tiresome series of processes to send certain calls to various sectors; whereas if they had an arbitrator, it would be an easy task since it would be up to the arbitrator and his long line of connections and privileges to do the job twice as fast as the students could. But who's incredibly good and stupid enough to avail the position?

Hanamichi suddenly had a headache at the thought. He's incredibly good and incredibly stupid, no wonder. Mikiko-sensei, the old hag, offered him the position. He was the perfect candidate; he was 'an outside(r) looking in'. The position was in wholly neutral grounds, meaning it was an independent seat, neither possessed by the student body nor by any other outside sector. But the job was more than a pain in the neck; it was a migraine a hundred times worse, a tumor bigger than his ego. Regardless of the pains, there are consolations to be accounted for. Like for example, Hanamichi's the only person who's daring enough to call their principal an old hag and live to tell it again to her face. The other benefits were somehow overshadowed by the disadvantages that it became futile to think of them. 

Almost clouded by lethargy, it took sometime for Hanamichi to hear Ichiro's voice calling to him among the assemble of jubilation. 

"Neh, Sakuragi-kun, daijobu ka." Ichiro was worried. The others were still thrown to their merriment over their winning; some would occasionally look at him.

"Aa," he muttered, shaking off the remnants of sleep. The younger boy smiled, turning afterwards to the group. Seconds passed and he heard the tune from his mobile phone. He got his phone from the bench. The screen was flashing a familiar name. Sleep left him totally. There was funny feeling in his stomach as he raised the phone to his ears.

_"Congratulations."_

He nearly gasped. How the hell did he know??!!

_"Turn around."_

Hanamichi didn't know whether to obey or just shout at the other line. Nevertheless he turned. 

Up on the bleachers, a prominent figure stood with long strands of yellow hair. His soft blue eyes were fixed on him; his face fair. He held his phone dearly to him, then smiled at Hanamichi.

The redhead was stunned; his face softened, that unusual expression appeared again, milder than ever. 

"Antoinette....." They both smiled. 

-_-;;TBC 

------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

(-_-;;) ummmm..... fine....

[1] from "The Little Prince" by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry, translated by Katherine Woods

[2] the _Y_ in Yan is in Spanish... yeah something (e.g. compañero _y _compañera) so it's pronounced as **Ian**

[3] new cellphone (?), probably......

starsong : erm.. nice song... ehehehehe... thanks anyway ^____^

chris : don't you get it? you're not suppose to get it!! just kidding... =P Hanamichi doesn't have a brother; he's the _only _son of Remedios. you'll soon find the answer's to your question since the next chap will deal with it.... hopefully.... his family is strange. Period.

Genkaku: it's you! *gasps* you changed.... neway, believe in Hana, he's the Tensai hehehehe... T_T ... i got the info stuff there from old notes, some of which i have to revise since my notes were, ehem, not actually that *cough* legible *whispers* or decent ^_~;. i dare not write something i don't know.... well, i appreaciate you reading this... indulge.

xiaoj : well.... i think so too... ehehehe *cough, cough* thanks for reading.

candy : you want more? here it comes..... only it's late... -__-;;; i'm so lazy....

this is long.... next chapter will hopefully clear everything up. hopefully... it's about family history.... something..... neway.... read on... indulge.... enjoy.... (*^_^*)


	11. Drawing a Circle

Disclaimer : I shouldn't be saying this to you but... *whispers low* I actually own Hana-kun, including the whole Sakuragi clan.... Bwahahahahahaha!!!

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

-----------------------------------------

CHAPTER 10 : Drawing a Circle

The sea was calm along Tomari Harbor as the black vehicle sped off the seaside road. Miranda and the Mistress just came from the US Force Residential Quarter, had a meeting with some officers and gathered information. On the different twisting routes, they were heading for Itoman where another conference awaits them.

The Mistress looked out on the sea. She was very fond of it in a subtle way. Breeze from the sea always soothes out discomforts; therefore she longs for it. The calmness of the sea was also favorable; it allows her to think much of the situation facing them.

Miranda sat beside her, prim as always.

"How are the children, Miranda?" the Mistress said icily.

"They are fine," she replied after composing herself from a start.

"And their meeting?"

"Nearly complete. We are yet preparing them. Though frankly speaking, I do not think this is a good idea." Miranda fidgeted slightly.

"Your opinion is not needed. How are the two?"

"They've met. Forgive me for saying this but, I really don't think that was a smart move, Mistress."

She finally paid attention at the imperceptibly crumbling figure of Miranda. "You really couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? Why is it that you continue insisting on that matter?"

It was her cue; she had to voice it out. Calmly, Miranda spoke. "Simply, Madam, because they are an abnormality to us."

"Hmm, how true..." Even the Mistress couldn't argue with that, Miranda held a triumphant face. "Nevertheless, aren't you a bit too old to believe in superstition?"

The younger lady was deeply scandalized. "Oh, please! Don't say that!"

With that the Mistress laughed. "No, my dear, I was just pulling your leg."

She gave a sigh of relief, pushed up her spectacles and continued. "Five hundred years of history is not something to be taken as superstition. It is not by chance not is it mythical; and you know that, Madam."

"More than five hundred years, actually," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Miranda was puzzled.

"More than five hundred years," she replied. "We both know that the origin had started more than five hundred years. Possibly seven or a thousand years back. Five centuries ago was when the clan was firmly and secretly established with its ancient goals set, passed on from generations to generations, written in records. The family's deeds are all the same. To possess, to dominate, to conquer. Seduce them. Manipulate them. Be outwardly submissive until you have soften them, until you have completely extracted their talents and uses, poison them with power, and held them to your utmost whim." The Mistress breathed long, expressing a heavy weight that had settled through time. "Then finally, you can take them as your puppets, push them forth to the depths of insanity, or put them out of their misery. Just the same as what I did to my dear Miguel, and what my daughters did to their husbands, and as the others will do to theirs."

There came a pause after that speech, a grave one.

"Except for that woman. She was a fool," Miranda blurted out in contempt. Her back was stiff; hands clenched tight.

"Who? My daughter, your mother.... Indeed, she was a fool. She had fallen," the Mistress said matter-of-factly.

"It was enough that she had died. But she gave us her spite when she bore Remedios, the damnable spitting image of her! Of all the curse--"

"Now don't you talk about your sister like that!" Unexpectedly the Mistress struck her cane hard on the floor. Her old yet sharp eyes frightening the younger descendant. "She had done her best to preserve the clan's pride. Do not compare her to your mother."

"Yes, she did; yet she had given birth to a--"

"A what?! It could be easily said that it is her fault; but Nature and Fate are something beyond us. It disappoints me to hear that your intellect could not grasp that simple fact." The Mistress' voice boomed and crumbled Miranda. The old woman was logical; she should not have blamed Remedios nor her offspring. It could not be helped though.

"But in a way, I do share your disappointment. " The mistress sighed. "This must be Nature's ill will to our family for centuries of greed and cruelty. Can we help it if it runs in our blood? For hundred of years we have only brought forth daughters of the sun, equip with the beauty and mind to dominate. It is only recently that two were born to destroy what had been for more than five centuries. And yet I feel that these two were the brightest to behold and more dangerous. I could not find it in me to extinguish their light. All I know is that we have to utilize them. It would be a pity to waste them. Besides I never really believed that we could hold on to a full matriarchal dominance for ages. This will be a new age, having great changes, I'm afraid. But that should be worried later. It is utterly stupid to argue about that when there's a bunch of crazed lunatics trying to kill us. We need to complete the Perfect Circle as soon as possible. How are they kept, Miranda?"

"Smoothly, unless they've detected us much faster than we thought," she replied back to her old self. Again, the Mistress was right; what they were settling before was completely absurd. A glitch in the family's biological flow is nothing compared to the current matter that involves their possible destruction. Other than that, the Mistress is the head of the Sakuragi clan. Who was she to question her authority? If the Mistress ordered a change in the family rites, then so be it. Even if it's against everybody's will. "Their connections to us were carefully covered; their tracks and records sealed and replaced. Blind subsidiaries finance their location and program. Two puppets were included. Their training will start as soon as things get inconspicuous."

"Good. Denisovich is dead. What of it?" There was an abrupt change in subject, but Miranda was ready. 

"Yes. He is." She fished out a folder from a bag beside her. A few newspaper clippings, pictures, a biopsy, and police reports were contained in that folder. Miranda scanned the reports. 

"He died a week ago. Ransacked his home, killed three of his households, and then kidnapped him. Two days after, his body was found in an alley inside a bag. In pieces, six parts. Done by a very sharp blade, they say. He was finely chopped." Miranda held up a picture to the old woman.

"Fine cuts." She nodded.

"According to biopsy, he was tortured, battered up. The right hand thumb was missing." She raised another picture.

"Interrogation. They must be very persistent."

"They were. He was shot in the throat. They definitely got nothing from him."

"I see." Reclining back, the Mistress took her view to the window. They were now taking the main road to Itoman. "And Alyana?"

"She was away when it all happened. We got her in custody even after she could return back. The Russian thought she was also taken. We already erased her."

"Somehow it affects me when a distant relation is sacrificed," the Mistress thought aloud. "Such a waste."

Miranda returned the folder to its previous place. "But not an extensive waste. Most relatives beyond the fourth civil degree have little, or no connections to us; some are already irrelevant. Alyana was beautiful, but an idiot."

The Mistress chuckled. "How true." She calmed down her amusement, bringing forth a severe expression. "They are gaining on us. Four deaths in a year is quiet disturbing, especially when the cases are similar."

"They are trying to climb the family tree," Miranda speculated.

"No. They are hunting down the roots. We don't know how deep they've dug but I think there was a time when they had nearly struck a vein. We must be careful." Miranda merely nodded, in her face was determination to protect the clan. "We must preserve the children, including the two. Most especially that of Remedios. He may seem like a flaw in time but he is definitely an asset. Retention of the family is our main priority." Afterwards the Mistress continued. "Send a message to Remedios. I would like to speak to her _unico hijo_ one of these days." 

***

The dream has returned. He was running in a singular path. Two doors came in view, and they opened for him.

Bodies.... Hundreds of them.

A lone figure in white, stained with blood. A scythe held in hand.

There was no face. The scythe was barring it out of sight. 

Red light.... Then darkness.

Sounds of porcelain vase hitting the ground, resounding. A ball bounced and rolled off. He looked at his back; there was the fragile face of a two-years old blue-eyed boy.

Threads of long blond hair littered on the floor.

A woman beautiful, but with undeniably insane eyes stalked to them. She hated them; she wanted to hurt them. 

He reached out to the little boy, afraid for his dear life, and embraced him tightly. They sat on the floor, crying, waiting for that woman's disgust to claw them.

But it did not come. It never came.

Hannah...

"Oniichan!" Someone was calling him.

"Oniichan!" And it grew louder. 

"Ezekiel!" 

Hanamichi was awaken.

"Hana-chan..." Antoine nudged him a bit and was currently looming over his prone figure. He had a dream and now that he's awake, he had forgotten.

"Ohayo," Hanamichi greeted.

Antoine sat up straight in bed. "Ohayo. I think we should get up now. It's almost 6."

So it was. They have a meeting at Yusenko. Another orientation regarding the premier team, or something like that. Classes at Yusenko usually start at 7 which is indeed very early. Especially today, it's Sunday. God knows what they're about to do.

Hanamichi reluctantly got up and followed Antoine to the bathroom. It was like Antoine had been with him forever. They had just seen each other yesterday, after what seemed like a lifetime to them, at the practice game and yet they acted as if they've been living and breathing the air within each others proximity for a long time. There were no welcoming hugs nor the usual how-have-you-been conversations. Hanamichi, to the curiosity of the crowd, bid ahead of the team, then raced outside to meet Antoine. They went to Hanamichi's unit together, taking time as much as they want to enjoy the walk and the company.

"Oi!" Antoine called him. Leaning on the side of bathroom door, Hanamichi was partly asleep when a tube was thrown his way. He deftly caught it. "Mind starting the day by bruising your teeth?" Antoine's face was already with foaming facial wash. Such a vain fellow he was, and still. He's far meticulous over matters of beauty than any woman he had ever known. But then simply Antoine hygiene fetish could answer everything concerning his vanity. 

Frequently, and to Antoine's indignation, people mistake him for a girl. Why, with long yellow locks of sensuous thick hair, a pair of smooth slender legs, and a face apparently pampered, it was no wonder why others make their faults. The way he acts effeminately would add to the reason.

"So what do you want to eat?" Hanamichi asked as they walked down the stairs to the kitchen. 

"Anything," Antoine replied when they reached the last step. " But I prefer something heavy."

Breakfast was speedily served and they attended to it most graciously. While at the table, their conversations were filled with silly laughter, mostly acquired from seemingly whimsical situations and cause. Like one would tease the other for not knowing how to fry eggs properly, then the other would be in mock defense. They would laugh at it for minutes, not really knowing why it's so funny, or what's so funny for that matter.

"What do you think are we going to do at school today?" Antoine inquired who soon laughed merrily after seeing Hanamichi struggle with a piece of egg. He found the scene to be amusingly cute and funny that he had got to laugh at it.

Hanamichi raised a brow at the blond, and smirked, clearly delighted. He finally managed to get the darn piece to his mouth, choking then when he heard Antoine's fits of laughter.

"Don't know," he practically choked out, reaching for the juice. "Probably about the premier level."

"Hmmm.... probably. I wonder what group we'll be in," Antoine thought wistfully.

"What?" Hanamichi blurted after taking a gulp.

"You see the premier level comes in different packages. There have elite groups for certain subjects like Biology, Chemistry, Physics, and other science --depends whether they could get a couple of whiz in those fields-- , and that also comes with Maths. There's usually groups in the Arts. The Theater's Guild, Journalist Circle, Artist Regent." Hanamichi watched him sway his fork up in the air as he enumerated. "Usually they're at least ten in a group since it's not some ordinary joint anyway; but if it's a common interest to all, they'd get loads. Everybody's required to join a club or committee for extracurricular points, but the slots for premier are limited right to the most prominent and most eager beaver on that specified field. They usually get in there through screenings or sometimes hand-picked by the teachers."

"And we are?"

"Hand-picked? Screened? Dunno..."

By 6:30 they were onboard the train heading their way. They came just in time to see the school looking empty. It was Sunday, what do they expect? And yet there were students, attending course-based schedules, using laboratories for projects, or preparing activities for tomorrow and the rest of the week. Students were there; only non-visible maybe because of the Sunday rest mentality some people are used to. Notes were posted on the main bulletin board, announcing the scheduled activities for that Sunday. Annoying studious people. Possibly an alibi to get out of the house, or the surrounding so not to be corrupted and misunderstood. 

They glanced for some time through the things posted. A bunch of workshops on acting, religion and stuff. Regarding religion, it surprised Hanamichi that they consist of only Catholic posters. Schedules for reviews and advancement programs were there. Rooms that are to be used that day were clearly noted, so were some of the students taking this or that special activity. Hanamichi saw their names on a list of people the old hag was suppose to meet; it directs them to a certain room far east of the school, according to the campus map near the bulletin board. The room was within the science/lab area of the first floor. 

Just when they were heading on a turn, somebody from the opposite direction bumped on Hanamichi. The stranger went off balance and he was to fall on the hard floor if Hanamichi, out of reflex, hadn't wrapped his arm around the fellow's waist and held him by the shoulder. Before the stranger could even apologized, the redhead delivered his outrage.

"Oi, watch where you're going, baka!"

Green eyes widen in panic and a blushed spread on his cheeks. "Ah! Gomen!" he uttered as he scrambled to his feet. He nudged up his glasses properly, then bowed down to Hanamichi. "I'm really sorry."

"I know, but you should thank me first before that!"

The green-eyed glass boy straightened up. He was tall. Taller than Antoine who was some 5-6 inches short of the redhead. Still Hanamichi was taller that the guy infront. 

"Thank you," he said low, red burning his cheeks.

"Yeah, and don't be stupid next time." This was silly; he knew that. But fuck it anyway.

"Well then, I presume that's settled," Antoine intervened. "Anou... since you're here, do you mind directing us to the GenSci room?"

"Oh!" The brunette stared at them. "So you guys were also called in. You're on the list. Loswell-sempai informed me that we'll be meeting on somewhere else instead of the GenSci lab. Actually I was about to inform some teachers of the change."

"Really? And you're on the list too." Antoine gave his hand. "Antoine Gibrone."

Hanamichi turned to his companion, slightly frowning. He still doesn't use his full name. Not even on the posted note on the bulletin board.

"Nice to meet you. I am Guillen Morrel."

They shook hands while Hanamichi just stood there. The guy named Guillen turned to him. "And you most definitely must be Sakuragi Hanamichi. I hope I'm not wrong."

"Nani??!! How the hell did you know my name??!!"

Guillen smile meekly at him; he smiles a lot, Hanamichi noted. "I accidentally saw your profile. Was that OK with you? I really hope you don't mind?"

Now how was he to react? Besides having a handsome feature, the guy was also very polite. 

"Well, no. Of course, I don't mind. You can look at my profile as many times as you want. I'm a genius anyway. Nyahahahahaha!!"

Guillen gave a bemused laugh. "Yes. Having your consent, for sure I will do that. Come now, they must be waiting for us."

The redhead was extremely proud of that; but one of Guillen's statement slightly stirred him. They passed several empty halls, going deeper into the east wing. The halls were already quite dark with windows scarce and sounds none but the echoes of their own feet. Until they turned left to a dead end. There was a single narrow door on that turn with a sign "FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" in glaring red. 

"Oi, just where the hell are you planning to lead us? We've been walking for like hours!" One exaggerated redhead complained.

"Gomen nasai. I didn't mean to make you impatient. We are near already. Please be patient, Hanamichi-kun." The address was soft and hesitant. Guillen beforehand was well aware that it is improper to jump to first-name basis on primary acquaintance; he was faintly hoping the redhead wouldn't mind. Nonetheless he clung to that faint hope (thus he called him so).

They were a few feet from the door when the redhead spoke. "Just make sure you get us there, neh... Len-chan."

Guillen stopped opening the door half way and entering it through with his right foot forward. He stopped not because the entry was dark and the stairwells ominous, but because of what Hanamichi had called him. Hanamichi just gave him a nickname; how sweet!

The stair had an approximate width of two people. It was almost dark, save by some ghostly lit bulbs attached to the side walls at huge intervals. They went for some twists and turns before they met plain flat surface. 

"So this is the basement," Antoine muttered.

"You can call it that.. on the surface. But technically this is what they call the U-2, or Section 2 Underground. We are actually beneath the basement, also known as the U-1."

Antoine stared at the brunette warily. "What's the U-2 for?"

"Basic Instruction Section. In a fortress it's what you pertain as the first line of defense. Where discreet dissemination of orders and classified information from other sections are made, and cofidential meetings held." 

"Really?" Hanamichi frowned, vaguely understanding yet acknowledging Morrel's information. "How many sections does the Underground have?" He was getting lost in all the heavy explanation that he had got to ask a trivial question to buy time and feign disinterest.

The spectacled boy smiled at him. "More than one can imagine from outside. I haven't really seen much of the U-facility. I am also new here at Yusenko, you see."

"Contradictorily, I don't. How come you know all these when the majority of the students don't even know the existence of this facility?" Antoine snapped, suspicion consuming him. At first sight he knew that this tall green-eyed brunette would be a companionable friend, though he foresaw that the two of them would not be able to touch the intimate level. If ever they were to be acquainted, which is most likely to happen, they would have a deep and very subtle rivalry underneath their civil unity.

"I was informed of it by Professor Watanabe, one of the Physics teachers who also works here. He was a friend of our family; he was the one who gave me the application for YSCEP and helped me transfer." Guillen merely flash a smile, haughtily, knowing somehow the growing discomfort of their conversation and doing nothing to prevent it. "Now if you don't mind, I would also like to ask you something. What made you so sure of the students' ignorance of the section? Aren't we jumping to conclusions, milord?" A smirk to smite with spite followed, haughtiness guise in polite manners.

Enormously indignant though, the youngest held his peace gracefully as an educated dauphin would. "Elementary, Monsier Morrel. Why do you think Yusenko have this underground expansion when they could have expanded it areaways from the ground surface? I would have liked to entertain the idea that Yusenko is following the new form of space-saving structural plan, yet it is very unlikely, especially for a school, don't you think so? They could have placed it in their brochures to gain publicity. Unless Yusenko is planning to be the Japanese version of the olden Edinburgh University and start buying illegal corpse for secret underground biology classes."

Hanamichi chuckled at that statement, but he ceased abruptly, sensing the tension. 

"Well, that wouldn't have to be the case, Monsier Gibrone. Let's say it is a private knowledge to students and staff." Morrel's last statement for the disclosure.

Hanamichi scowled, disturbed. "But Yusenko's a private school, right?"

Somewhere in that seemingly non sequitur sentence that Hanamichi said rendered Morrel's last statement untrue. Beyond the meaning of that fact held Antoine's winning streak.[1]

"Well, yes," was Guillen's hesitant reply, smiling meekly and resignedly at the honey-eyed boy. Hanamichi's intervention silenced them somehow. 

He didn't know why Antoine and Guillen do not like each other; all the redhead know is that it was utterly senseless of them to argue about the most obvious. Guillen looked like someone with connections; respectable in mien and smart in speech, plus pampered and clean in appearance, the spectacle lad is wealthy enough, the redhead accurately presumed. He had that vague spark of held knowledge in his eyes, covered by his mild and polite ways. Behind the cordial smiles is a dangerously shrewd fellow. About Yusenko's underground territory, what Antoine said were exactly the thing. There is no need for elaboration Hanamichi thought; what boggled him was how they managed to establish this network, or how it was constructed out of public eyes. Whether or not the U-facility is publicly acknowledge is practically a stupid question. The two didn't have to make it sound so grave and severe; why do they have to make it sound so unnatural? 

They stopped in front of a normal sized door. It was mechanically locked that Guillen had to swipe a card on the apparatus beside the door to open it. Inside was a fairly lit room, not a speck nor mark could be seen on the tiled floors and walls. Curving right where a single boring door resides, Guillen spoke to them. "We're here."

He opened the door for them and inside was a seemingly normal classroom with chairs, tables, and teacher's desk and flat form. Hanamichi immediately recognized Van as one of the student's there. She was sitting on one of the front seats with Meimei casually sitting on her lap. One of his cousin's arms was draped languidly across Meimei's thighs. And Meimei combed Van's relaxed hair with her hand while they talked in whispers. 

Hanamichi smiled at the scene. The two were oblivious of their surroundings. Near Van's desk, another girl sat bored. A blonde foreigner with sensuous lips and perfectly shaped chin. She emits a cosmopolitan air, like Van and the rest of the people in the room. Her complex spirit flaunts its presence all over her very being. For the first time, the redhead felt a bit awkward, he felt blood rushing through his cheeks. Here he stood in a room full of individuals whose mere presence could struck a crowd in awe. Beautiful, talented, attractive; what else could they ask for? He quelled the growing inferiority within him; it was torturing him. He chose to talk to Guillen instead.

"Oi, Len-chan--" Hanamichi paused. Guillen was blushing, jaws slightly dropped. Guess he wasn't used to that sort of intimacy. He blinked, somehow that expression annihilated his inferiority complex. Antoine beside him just looked pass the two friends, nearly as bored as the foreign girl.

"Oi!" He nudged him.

"H-ha? Gomen nasai, Hana-kun. Let's take our seats, shall we? We'll just have to wait for the others." 

The three of them occupied the column on the far side of the room. Glass panels where on the rear wall; curtains hanging from it outside, barring the view through. There was good air-conditioning and lighting, as if one is not in an underground territory.

"Hey, redhead," a melodious voice penetrated his reverie. The foreign girl faced him mischievously. Hanamichi thought she wasn't actually intimidating; she was appealing in a way. Within seconds, he became entranced by her feline grace as she walked to him and sat on his desk. Her cream neck tilted at him curiously, exposing an elegant curve. She wore the school uniform, during Sundays he wondered, a white long sleeves polo underneath a tight vest and a black shorts skirt[2]. He noticed she has long legs, shapely and smooth. "I'm Gail Lenard. And you are Mr. Cute?" Gail winked at him; Hanamichi shot up a brow. He changed his mind. Too cocky and aggressive for him, if not too sensuous.

"Well, yeah." He snorted irritably.

"Oh, you are soooo adorable!" she suddenly squealed, plunging up him for a tight bear hug. Experiencing in shock his first girl assailant, Hanamichi found himself squirming for dear breath.

"Teme! Get your fucking hands off me!"

"KIIIAAA!!! You're so cute when you're all squirming and suffocating like that!" She laughed insanely. Bwahahahahaha!!!

"Hoy! Don't you dare touch him!!" Antoine (in chibi mode) screamed seething.

Gail, who stopped bouncing on Hanamichi's lap, glared at him. "And are you? His boyfriend?"

"Well-- yeah!" The blond boy paused. "... er, something like that. The point is that you should get your damned ass off him, right now!"

The foreigner stared at him critically for a long time, only to state "I'm prettier than you" afterwards, then proceeded to squeal and torture Hana-kun with her steel grip cuddles, which infuriated Antoine more.

"Maa, maa, Gibrone-san. Calm down," Guillen tried to sooth.

"Ow shut the fuck up, Morrel!!"

The door suddenly burst open. "Hello, mates!" Luch stepped in. "What the hell was that racket? Oi, you! The blondie sittin' on the redhed. Stop screaming will ya? Could here you're voice from th' hallwa', 'now that?" 

"Who the hell are you, anyway?" The blonde snapped back.

Luch approached them, ignoring Van and Meimei who were still indulging in their own world. "Luthiana Hikaru Felch at your service." She bowed to her. "Now s'll we get off the redhead?" And without further ado, Luch dragged her to seat, gripping on the locks of her hair.

"Good riddance, wasn't it? Hana-kun?" Guillen commented with relief as they listened to the painful screams of Gail. Before Hanamichi could reply, Yan came into the room and sat at the nearest desk immediately.

Seconds after the door opened and closed, jolting off Meimei from Van's lap to the chair near the board facing them. A man wearing white lab gown came in front, ignoring Meimei's abrupt scuttle who was currently sitting beside him. Instead of going behind the teacher's desk, he leaned in front of it, scanning the residents of the room with blank expression.

"So it's seven," he muttered more to himself. "We're complete. Anyway, I'm Professor Noda from the College of Modern Sciences of Liwette. I'm also the first year's Chemistry teacher in here, for those of you who don't know." Noda-sensei paused, eyeing Hanamichi oddly and tilting back his black-rimmed eyeglasses, before crossing his arms to his chest. "Basically you are all here to form a special group with me as you technical adviser, and Mrs. Yuriko Volsteick as your coach and group adviser. Your group will be under the classified department of the U-sector. In short, this is a very special team under Code 7. You will be labeled as the 'Perfect Circle'." Noda-sensei roved through the aisles, back and forth, nonchalantly. His voice was metallic, cold, resounding inside the four corners of the room. "A course will be designated to each and everyone of you. You will be taught privately according to the field given to you. You can do what you want up surface; but within Code 7, you will be instructed and handled."

Pain surged to Hanamichi's head. It's all too fast. He had heard the teacher's lines before. Different words and instructions; same meaning. He had to confirm it; he raised his hand.

"Yes, Hanamichi-kun?" The teacher coolly acknowledged him, despite the awkward notion of calling his pupil by the first name. But the redhead knew the reason why; first name basis are safer where lineage is concern. 

"I don't.... I don't get this." He chuckled hesitantly, confused as he was. Van sat still, face blank. Unknown if this gets to her or not. The teacher glanced pensively at him, expecting for Hanamichi to continue, even if the redhead didn't know what exactly to say. "What is this exactly?" That was the only question he could come up with. 

Noda Katsuo's eyes bore down through his soul; he felt naked with those eyes. "What is this?" He repeated, as if weighing down the answers. "Why, it's exactly what you think it is."

He dreaded that answer. He could see his reflection on his spectacles. It was stunning, horribly stunning. This morning he thought that this was some dumb boring orientation again, but this was wholly different. This may be another one of those position-of-responsibility shits the old hag had on her sleeves to torment him. Or it may be the other dreadful thing, the same dreadful thing? The latter option scared him. 

The room with it's white walls and conditioned surrounding became frigid to him. Yusenko, YSCEP, the U-sector revealed things to him. They were clear absolutely clear to him.

_Deception. Cover. Network. Conspiracy. Code Red._

Hanamichi felt more than saw Antoine. He was listening to Noda-sensei. Lips pursed thin, pallid than ever, calm in composure, but he could feel the coldness that crawled to the young one's skin, the merciless hands that gripped his soul. 

Antoine also knew. It was the family.

Fucking shit....

***

He came out not really as a new person, but as the old one with newer and bigger burden. The characters from the past are arriving one by one, like a haunting nightmare. Only Antoine was his light.

Sleeping beside the redhead was the fragile effeminate blond. It was about 6 p.m. when they took the train, and it had been 15 minute ever since. Antoine was still peacefully asleep; Hanamichi was almost sorry to wake him up. But he did so because they were nearing their stop. To home they went. To rest.

The two slumped down to Hanamichi's king sized bed. His room had changed ever since yesterday. Stuffed toys, big and small, were crowding the bed that one would think that a filthy rich girl sleeps in there. One of Antoine's odd collections, amounting some hundreds already. Some of them he had since childhood. 

Antoine grabbed beneath the heap a small old pink and white bunny with a lovely strawberry embroidered on its belly. The pink hue was evidently discolored by time, but intact and well-contained despite the color. The bunny was Antoine's first toy and Hanamichi's first gift to him. He loves it very much, and when stressed or lonely, he takes it for a cuddle.

Laying side by side each other quietly, they kept their eyes close and relaxed their bodies, comfortable with the company and the soft breeze from the balcony.

" 'ntoine..."

"Hm."

"It's them." He stated rather than asked. They don't know but they could feel.

"Yeah. The family."

They both sigh, the depression sinking on them.

"Got any news?"

"Something's wrong. I heard some of _our_ branches had been cut off. Four of them."

Hanamichi turned to him frowning. "Major keys?"

"No, minor. Almost the tips... now dead twigs." He laughed at his joke. "But they're enough to shake the tree, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I read you." The allegory was quite understandable, for them, that is. Serious talks always come in metaphor. However Hanamichi didn't appreciate it. The secrecy and restrain add up to the burden of too much knowledge. 

"It seems that our enemy's persistent. They're hunting us down. And some government got snoopy too. It all started when Salvador from Caracas got deals from a wealthy European syndicate. A newbie but well-equipped, I should say so. It happened that the said group planned to steal a million-dollar technology from one of our laboratories. Salvador headed a shipment company in South America. He ensured the smooth travel of illegal goods to Europe. It's a relay point of North America to Europe. Anyway, to make the long story short, he decided to ride in two rivers, supporting the syndicate and then warning the laboratory secretly for a price. Accordingly the syndicate's attempt was futile; some of the members were caught and hunted down by the German police. If I tell you the details I would probably have a headache, so the end of the story is somebody found out about Salvador and he got killed. Then the police found evidences of transferred accounts to Zurich earning to millions of dollars. 

"Not his accounts, I assume." They both know to whom those millions are.

"Most definitely the family's."

"He's one helluva twig."

"Not really. Salvador was a blind puppet. We've got other puppets somewhere else. The armed forces and other government agencies. Loyal bunch. Some of them were recently activated to hold down information and to wipe us clean. They're great help but we need to eliminate the nosy people."

"The syndicate?"

"Could be easily squashed. But they're good diversions to keep them from suspecting the network. . Have you heard? We're doing some blood cleaning along the way?" Antoine smirked.

Hanamichi stared at him, half-amused, half-confused. "Really?" 

"They're breaking off the bad useless branch."

"You mean culling them." Somewhere in the depths of his conscience came a tug in his heart.

"Yup. Some puppets were retained though, more than the kin. Don't you know that we could make a whole army?" His blue eyes glistened in childish excitement.

"That's wonderful!" Hanamichi agreed. Never had he thought such words would be spoken with calmness. They were talking metaphorically of deaths and killings of their own bloodline in a fashion that sounded too trivial to raise alarm on them. Calmness to the extent of morbidity. 

He could feel it but he doesn't give a damn. He was back in the family cage again, nearly forgetting his old self. He and Antoine were back in the same insane labyrinth . But it is most likely inevitable from them to escape this. For being together, Antoine and Hanamichi, means locking themselves back to the clan. However once together, they begin to disregard the cage set in on them; they were happy as is.

"Who's Salvador's connexion?" Hanamichi spoke of their relative.

"Brigetta, his wife, product of the 16th generation. They're far from tracking us down, if you think of it. She was the one who coaxed his husband into entering the deal with the syndicate and into opening a shadow account in Zurich. She's very wise. The police didn't even suspect her, instead she was portrayed as an innocent wife who had no idea of her husband's forbidden occupation." 

Hanamichi chuckled. "Undeniably, a Sakuragi to the core!"

"Indeed, her acting was flawless, also her contraption and alibis. This led to the killings of other less intelligent of our connexions who were within the transaction. But something went wrong." Antoine sank to silence.

"Let me guess." Hanamichi said after some time. "Brigetta was killed. Not by the syndicate, nor by the police. It's somebody else, isn't it?"

Antoine did not speak.

"That's why we're gathered. To get us ready. To protect the clan or something else. Or to utilize us on some project or another scam before we're done for. They disregarded _us _flaws because we are directly from the 22nd descendants, the 23rd. We are the prominent blood among the 12 cousins of the 23rd descendants. How flattering," he said flatly. "The Sakuragi's main goal is to survive."

"_Les derniers fils d'une race épuisée_[3]." Antoine muttered thoughtfully.

The older boy laughed out loud. "Don't sound so negative, my dear Antoine!"

"They're scared. Who could possibly be our enemy?" he thought aloud, out of curiosity than sympathy for the clan.

"Don't know. Most likely some psychopaths hell bent on destroying us." The redhead turned to him for an inquiry. "What do you have to say for that?"

Grinning madly, the boy looked at him maliciously. "Shine."

He chuckled once again; under normal circumstances, he shouldn't have. "I know you'd say that."

There were things unspoken, things to weary to discuss, so they didn't. Riveting back to common flow, Antoine asked for them to sleep for a while, yawning for emphasis. Hanamichi declined.

"I have to call Miyowara for the details of the Science Symposium of the 3rd year seniors. They're asking for this guy from the university. I have to contact the university for that. Then I've to call the old hag for the May fair budget."

"Ok, you do that. I'll take a nap," he said closing his eyes.

Nothing but the emerald green canopy to commune with, Hanamichi unexpectedly felt a certain longing. Mentally tired as he was, he moved his body to the right, where the younger boy lay still. Raising his upper body with the help of his right elbow, he scrutinized the prone form of Antoine. The younger boy's long hair was scattered on the soft mattress; his lips that were teasingly red slightly parted; eyelids heavy with long fabulous strokes of lashes. The lids each have a single green strokes of make-up, accentuating his lovely face, however chase those simple strokes were. He was the only guy Hanamichi knew who actually wears make-up. But it did not matter.

"Antoine," he whispered to his ear. Eyelids opening like delicate rosebuds, dramatically exposing brilliant sapphires caused Hanamichi to hitched up a breath. As innocent as those eyes were when they first met, blue eyes, dazed with sleep, stared at him disoriented.

"Hai..." he answered huskily.

The redhead could not resist flashing a loving smile. His hand extending to trace the soft contours of his cheek.

"Let's play basketball."

-_-;;; TBC

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

(~_~;;;) ohhhh.... dear. 

[1] try getting logic out of that statement... i won't give anything but just try.... expand your imagination and logical thinking by getting at what Hanamichi was trying to say....

[2] you know those thing which at first glance could be mistaken for a skirt but then it's actually shorts

[3] The last of a declining race (French). got it from 'Sons and Lovers' by D.H. Lawrence.

kaien : i'm glad to have intrigued you. anyway, i'm very much aware that antoinette _is_ a girl's name... the name itself has a certain significance in the story which in coming chapters will be revealed. there's a little hint in this chapter though, but it is quite vague....

Blue6_Blood6]6 : what?! i didn't know you're such a studious ass!!! =P i'll miss you too.... mhaw! i'm not finish with you bio, so kill me when you see me. hehehe....

keli : my, my!!! i'm not revealing anything yet, but all i can say is...... maybe.... i'm really sorry. i did this fic without having much thought of the love aspects. it's originally focused on the relationship of antoinette and hana-kun and the family.... about sendoh and rukawa, well.... we'll see if i can fit it in the scene but please don't be disappointed if i didn't....

caramel : thank you. i hope i'll continue to inspire you....

silvercross : cliche? it's the thought that counts..... that's cliche! hehehe.... of course, Hana-kun is a tensai!!! Bwahahahaha!!! I'd be damn not to say it..... i've written this chapter earlier than the others but i did something else so.... well, i hope this is not too long.... RuHanaRu? i can't promise, unfortunately.... 

starsong : that was a great comment and i thank you from the bottom of my heart!!! i could kiss you, ya know!!! *gives sloppy kisses* bwahahahahaha!!! please continue reading despite it all. i'll try my best to set my story properly.... again, don't trust my word for it.... ehe-he-he.... (-_-;;;)

Hirame : why, you change a lot!!! at least i could still recognize you.... Fil-Am??? anyway, have a nice life... or something. complicated plots are a scream.... i usually go for conspiracies.... read on!!! (*^_^*)

chris : this would have to be that _soon_ you're talking about.... why, damn it! i'm slow! *pounds head on the desk* really sorry.... this might spread some light on 'things'. well, it's not so clear as i intend it to be, i'm always bound to break my promise... *sigh* i suggest you read between the lines, maybe you might get something in here.... 

Maria-chan : here it is!!! thanks for the support..... luv ya!!! mwah!!

so what could i say??? i'm planning hastily for the next chapters, but i've got lots of ideas i don't even know what would be next.... the story getting creepy, or something.... maybe i should stop ranting... yeah, hell.. (*_*;)


	12. Dr Michelson

Standard Disclaimer Applied

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

-------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 11 : Dr. Michelson

Monday, 7:00 AM 

                He just have to wear the tight vest and all will be well. The invitation for the professor from the Biology Department had been prepared; the first draft of the May fair calculated. The morning ceremony starts at 7:10. The qualifiers for the YSCEP were to be presented; the General Managerial Arbitrator formally acknowledge. After the ceremony, Hanamichi just have to give the proposal to the principal, then go visit the neighboring university to leave the invitation.

                Antoine came with him, of course, though he's also a non-regular. The two of them, together with Guillen, Mary Anne, and Luthiana Hikaru, were presented to the warm reception of Yusenko students. The faculty greeted them one by one. Some prominent students also welcomed them. Van and Gail were among them.

                Van is the captain of the soccer team, a combined girls and boys team since the male population is pretty low. Yusenko could almost pass as a girls' school and many people thought it so. She also plays for the university as a recruit. A member of the fashion club, 3-A class president, volunteer for Environmental Watch and School Beautification Committee. 

                One of the prominent fashionista, Gail Lenard is the noted 'Sex Goddess'. She walks around the campus with that carefree and sensuous elegance, hiding the mind of a very determined chemist and a well-rounded actress. A distinguished stage actress gifted with an operatic voice. She usually works with Van, also an aspiring director, in the Dramatics Club.

                It amazes him that most of the population in Yusenko have multiple clubs and activities. The reason is, only 80 students get admitted per batch in Yusenko Kanagawa-ken. They say they take 50 in Yusenko Okinawa. They both have the junior and senior high school in their compound; both considered as separate legal governments, yet they interact and support each other as a unified body. Unfortunately for the lazy minds, there is a cut-off grade. The students should maintain a grade of 65% or above; otherwise he/she will be recommended to study in another school. Therefore one can count that there'll be one or more slots available in each batch. Furthermore, Yusenko is a private school with a few full scholarship grants. Only five branches are in Japan: Okinawa (Naha), Kanagawa (Hakone), Hiroshima (Onomichi), Miyagi (Sendai), and Hokkaido (Sapporo).

                The ceremony was already finished. Still other minor students flocked to them. Some junior high students were also there, mingling nonchalantly with the higher levels. It was as if no batch/level barriers hold them. There was brotherly exchange, no formality to hinder them. What totally overwhelmed Hanamichi were their smiles. They smile more frequently and more wholeheartedly than all normal Japanese students he had known put together. Their enthusiasm was immense yet well controlled.

                Akita-sensei led the three boys to their room. Coincidentally, they were in the same class, 2-B. Despite being non-regulars, Hanamichi and Antoine were designated in that room. The room's capacity is only twenty and the three of them were the only boys in it.

                Akita-sensei, the accommodating History teacher, introduced them to their homeroom adviser, Ms. Hideki Raiko, a long-legged, voluptuously bodied Trigonometry instructor with skin seductively brown and hair wavy black falling beside her healthy frontal assets. That would have explained why boys _and girls love their Math subject, but still fail it nonetheless._

                Hanamichi would have loved to sit in his class; unfortunately he has to attend his real school, at Shohoku. He wasn't supposed to go back there this Monday. YSCEP's main adviser, Akita-sensei, persuaded him to resume there until he is called back by Yusenko. He could file his schedule via internet, and all transactions and would be given to him via net just the same.

                "What do you plan today?" Antoine finally inquired after they got themselves outside 2-B. Non-regular like the redhead, he's got nothing to do in there.

                "Go to the old hag and give her this draft. Then head to the university."

                "Would you like me to come?"

                "Not necessarily," he said a bit hesitant; he nearly bit his tongue then. "I'll go straight to Shohoku after that. Why don't you go home and rest?" Hanamichi wanted to die, looking at the dismal expression of his cousin. How it almost pained the both of them to depart.

                "But probably you could come with me," he reclaimed. Hanamichi thought of it stupid to have dismissed him.

                "No!" Antoine startled him. "I shall go and we will see again." The younger one smiled reassuringly before disappearing.

                The door of the principal's office was brutally torn open. Principal Mikiko held on her chest when the redhead slammed a folder on her desk.

                "There's your stupid draft, you old hag! I don't want to hear anything from you so better shut your pie hole or else!"

                The poor door received another harsh bang. Mikiko-sensei started blinking at the battered door that the redhead left.

                Hanamichi was pissed off, majorly. Antoine's absence caused him to be irritated. He felt almost lost without him, walking through the empty halls. Especially when he got out, the world seemed to him a vast and cold jungle. Deep in him lingers a hollow spot. He could not understand why the emptiness that struck him feels so fresh when he had lived with it for years. May it be because of Antoine? That his presence returned spoiled him? Or the fear of losing him again too intense?

                At the left of Yusenko lies Liwette University. Approximately a 600 hectare land near Mt. Hakone with a lone extension of a lab in Manazuru, Liwette is a haven of radicalism. There are large buildings and agricultural lands that make up departments, laboratories, or special facilities in and around the campus. Hanamichi entered a private gate which connects Yusenko and Liwette located on the east wall of the high school. He walked pass some departments, stopping to ask college students on where the Biological Science department is.

                Finally he got there. The building, they say, is the largest. He looked for the Biotech department and only met a student assistant along the way.

                "I'm sorry, but Dr. Michelson is out. He must be just around the campus. He doesn't have classes at this hour," said the gentle student.

                Hanamichi cursed under his breath. He wanted so much to give the invitation to the college student and let her give it to him, so he, Hanamichi, could be gone. But he was to make sure the letter lands on the doctor's hands. He has to give it personally. The problem is he didn't know where to look. There were lots of twists and turns here that he's bound to get lost. Nevertheless, Hanamichi walked out bravely and after several misleading directions, he eventually got himself lost.

***

                The light in the greenery was delightfully mild. It tended the flowers well, provided also with the right amount of nourishment the plants need. Temperature control serves another factor. He knew this was the reason why the roses were unnaturally healthy. Their colors radiated in the surroundings and they burst open excitedly, wearing their big round petals.

                It gives joy to him to see them. That's why he's always here, away from the harsh environs that beset him everyday. Silence could be heard in the vastness; and that soothes him. He likes to contemplate there, to drown in the intoxicating smell of the flowers. He loves the roses, most especially the red ones. His grandfather loved them too. He used to play in his grandfather's garden during vacation when he was a kid. He would stoop down and smell the roses, imagining the scent to linger all over him. Then he would pick them up, kiss them over and over on each petal, and keep them to his room. He would do it on a weekly basis, sometimes daily when he has nothing to do. Red roses were mostly his preference. He would keep them in his room until they wither, and would not let anybody take them out. Each week he would have a fresh bunch; and he would keep them just the same, until they dry up and possibly disintegrate. That was his bad habit. He could not part away from them. Every book he had would have a dozen or more dried flowers stuck to its pages. His parents grieved for his sanity. They tried everything to break the habit, constantly occupying his time enough to prevent his going to the garden. Sometimes they even thought of not visiting his grandfather's house or some such tactics. Forceful confiscation of the flowers would make him throw a frightful fit. Therefore leaving his grandparent's country house would be a tiresome affair for his parents. He was generally a good son, but the rose-keeping was his unnatural habit. To think they called him queer for that.

                The only one who could understand him and support his whim at that time was his grandfather. They share the same passion with the roses. His grandfather told him that the first time he saw a rose, he immediately fell in love. On a lighter aspect, his older brother was another rose lover in the family; though he did no such thing as keeping them in his room until they decayed, he has pictures and items related to it. 

                Now that he has grown up, he had stopped keeping roses in his room, though once in a while he would have that strong urge. He likes to visit the greenery instead, or tend roses on his garden. But he never dared pick them up, afraid that the old habit would start. He had no one to share his uncanny pleasure since his grandfather had died years ago. His older brother also died.

                Noises came from the entrance; feet scrapping on the ground could be heard. He was annoyed, who could possibly have dared destroy his solitude? Moving away from the roses, he straightened his posture. He's quite ready to greet anyone and snap back at them wittingly and politely.

                The unforeseen stranger came near his aisle. And as he was to face the intruder who materialized suddenly to his right, he felt his heart stop.

                "Uh...," the stranger gave a nervous laugh. "This is silly."

                A deep blush spread on the young man's face; seeing it made him feel a thrill on his spine. 

                "Oi! Where the hell's...."

                He took in everything and nothing of what the fellow said. Bluntly staring at the intruder, he could not tear his eyes from him. The scent of roses became more intoxicating, it seems. His heart felt like jumping out from his chest.

                "..... the exit here?" The young one finished. Unfortunately, his inquiree did not comprehend him and could only stare oddly at him.

                "Hey, Mister?" Still there was no reply from him.

                Until he felt himself stupid for gazing unabashedly, he intended to grasp back his composure.

                "H-hai! I'm sorry. What was it again?"

                "I asked where's the exit here," Hanamichi irately repeated. The guy has been looking at him awkwardly for some reason. A hint of fascination. Fascination that in a matter of seconds was stripped naked. Hanamichi realized the intensity of those gray eyes. Instantly there was a throbbing at the back of his head. Those eyes reminded him of some time past; yet he could not remember.

                The older man had an unusual creamy white skin. He's in his late 20's, Hanamichi reckon, but already he has his hair all white, cut short and appearing soft. He wore silver-rimmed eye glasses, giving off an intelligent aura. Crimson hue was evident on his cheeks, the only color present on his pale face. Grey pants and a white polo tucked-in was his apparel. Obviously, he's respectable in manner and state. Hanamichi thought he had seen a man with the same feature as the guy in front. He just couldn't remember where. Pictures of hundred of people flashed abruptly in his mind. Pain surged pass his eyes. He nearly flinched at the vague memory. He refused to show it in his facial cast.

                "Are you... lost?" was the apparently disorganized reply. Whether the guy is someone with an irreversible skin disorder that killed off all his melanin pigment or just some albino punk, Hanamichi didn't care. Anyway, the pale guy was extremely handsome to be pitied at; albinism would be considered a beauty factor than a disorder. Nevertheless that seemingly innocent question pissed off Hanamichi.

                "Teme! I need an answer, not a question, baka!" Hanamichi was already beet red, due to anger and embarrassment.

                "I'm sorry." The pale guy sounded so mortified. He smiled apologetically at the fuming redhead. "Follow me and I'll show you." He turned around mechanically. But all of a sudden, he stopped and faced the redhead even before he could take his first step. "Anou, this might sound strange but.." Those gray eyes sparkled with unknown mirth. "Would you like some strawberries?"

                "What??!!"

                "Please follow me," the white haired man said frighteningly gleefully, unmindful of Hanamichi's alarmed face. The sight of the redhead stirred him. Currently he was trembling with excitement. He didn't know why.

                "Hoy, matte!" They turned along the aisle to the side blocked with blurred glass panels. An entrance door awaited them at the end of the panels. Hanamichi was still screaming at the guy who was consumed in his own excited thoughts, when they came inside rows of strawberry plots. A 40 by 20 meter compartment sunned efficiently by the slightly oblique wall of the roof. 

                Grumbling, Hanamichi barely noticed where they were, until the white man held a plump red strawberry in front Hanamichi's face, touching his lower lip. 

                Speechless as he was, he dared not move. The gesture was startling and unexpected, leaving him no room to think it through. The pressure on his lips was quite tempting. In the end, he opened his mouth and took it, the stranger's finger slightly brushing his lips. 

                It was sweet, very juicy. The taste spreading inside his mouth and erupting with freshness.

                "How does it taste?" the odd man asked after Hanamichi had apparently swallowed the fruit. He noticed that the queer man was tall; actually taller than him, about Van's height. He was also a foreigner, no doubt. 

                "It's, um, it's..." Staring at the man, he didn't know whether to bellow or... what? "... good."

                They stared at each other for a while. Until the white flashes which caused Hanamichi's headache returned and he finally snapped out of it.

                "Teme! Are you playing me around?! I was asking for the door!"

                "It's there." The man simply pointed to his left where a two-door lies. On top of the door was a big bold exit sign.    

                Hanamichi blushed. "Y-yeah! I know that!" He turned his heels to that direction but came to a stop as he remembered something. "Hey, do you happen to know where Dr. Michelson is?"

                The albino guy suddenly beamed. "Why, of course! I happen to know exactly where he is. He happens to be right in front of you."

                "Nani?! You're Dr. Michelson!?"

                "I guess I have to state that formally to you, don't I? Yes, I am Gabriel Michelson and the only Michelson here in the university."

                "Eh? And I thought you'd be an old man."

                "I hope I didn't disappoint you."

                "Not really. Actually at first I thought you were a student."

                "Really?" There was a sly curve on the man's lips which somehow freaked out Hanamichi.

                "H-hai... Well, anyway, here." He trust a cream envelop to him. "The students from Yusenko are inviting you to be their guest speaker. The details are in there so just read. Make sure you reply soon. It's for the third year seniors."

                Dr. Michelson nodded as he scanned through the invitation. "Yes. I've heard of this. And don't worry, I'll definitely be there." Sweet smile grazed his pale lips.

                Without saying much as goodbye, Hanamichi quickly headed for the door. He was already late for Shohoku but he guessed he could make a slip.

                "Excuse me, but can you tell me your name?" Dr. Michelson half-shouted. 

                "No!" He threw back irately. What's with that guy? He's going to be late for class. 

                "But will you be there?" The professor continued right when the redhead was at the door.

                "Possibly. How the fuck should I know?" He banged the door shut. It was enough; he needed to get out of there. 

***

                He was late. It was 9:00 and he's dead late. The front gate was already closed. But Hanamichi was not one to fret over the matter. He had been late for a couple of times. At the back wall was every juvenile delinquent's back door. He would slip into the 9 o'clock class; and if someone tried to ask him where he's been, he would just knock him off. Or show him the principal's slip instead.

                After banging into the principal's office to get himself a proper excuse slip, arguing with the school secretary, and harassing the poor principal, he set himself to class.

                "Oi, Hanamichi! Were have you been?"

                Their teacher wasn't there. He's unusually late, Hanamichi thought. It was ten minute pass nine.

                "None of your business, Noma!" he bellowed. Immediately the students inside the room looked at him. That pissed him off.

                "What?" he screamed. All of them got started and returned to whatever they're doing. Sakuragi Hanamichi seemed a lot more fearful today.

                "Hanamichi, is there something wrong?" Yohei asked when the redhead settled down his seat. The redhead was unusually tempered for some unknown reason. It's too risky to ask but Yohei felt nervous of it.

                "Did Haruko finally dump you?"

                Yohei wanted to kill Takamiya on the spot. For sure there'll be headbutts for all of them. Surprisingly, Takamiya was still standing unharmed; Hanamichi hadn't launched at him yet. And he didn't budge. Something must be clearly wrong.

                "Sensei's coming!" one student gasp. Everyone turned to there proper seat. The rest of the gundan went to their respective rooms. Unfortunately for them, their teachers were already there. There were two visible options: either they barge in, looking more of a delinquent than they already are, receiving demerits and dirty glances from their teachers and classmates; or they could skip their classes and be delinquents nonetheless. 

                Yohei and Hanamichi were a different case. With Hanamichi doubly tempered and uncaring while Yohei worried himself sick of his friend's current disposition.

                "Class, I would like you to excuse me for being late. Something unexpected came and it concerns our class. Now..."

                He tried to act normal, but he didn't feel like it. Emptiness inhibited his core; rage and displeasure dominated him. Inwardly he was at lost, like a part of him had been forcefully torn off. Again, he knew why. His dear cousin had returned, the pain off losing him was too strong now that he's near.

                "We have a new student who just came from France. He'll be in this class..."

                Ever since, the young boy was one for him to protect, to cherish, to love. He had never really devoted himself to anyone; not till he came. He was loved by his mother and sister; in response he loved them too. But his mother and sister were too occupied battling and serving their purpose. They gave him love that did not ensure his trust or satisfaction.

                "Please, come inside," their teacher gesture. Hubbub sparked inside as the new student went to his position up front.

                "Konnichi wa, minna-san."

                Hanamichi imperceptibly gasped.

                He wanted someone to love. Someone to protect. Someone to love him back with the same ardor and trust. Someone who could affect him and be a vital part of him.

                Staring at the corner of the window sill, he drew his arms across his chest.

                "Hajimemashite watashi wa Antoine Gibrone desu, dozo yoroshiku!"

                Bright morning sunrays reflected along the window played in the corner. He did not dare look up. From the moment he raised his first tone, Hanamichi knew it was him. He didn't need to look at him; he could recognize the young boy's mere presence, the sweet air of fresh night.

                Antoine could see him from the corner of his eyes. On the last row near the window, Hanamichi sat pensively, not looking at him, though acknowledging him at the same time. He noticed those strong tanned hands gripping hard on his arms. He was trembling. Antoine was also slightly fidgeting.

                "Very well Gibrone-san. Please take your seat."

                There was a blank seat in front of Hanamichi.

                "Hai, sensei."

                As the young one approached his table, they caught each others eyes and a jolt ran down his spine. Class resumed nonchalantly however, unaware of two disturbed souls. Hanamichi was so near, yet they were held in restrain by an invincible wall. Of the sworn secrecy and discretion. Antoine composed himself, oblivious of the sighs and stares of girls nearby. He had tied his hair at the back tightly. That gave him a boyish form. A very fair blond boy with striking blue eyes. He sparked up the very room like an ethereal being. Breathtaking, majestic and refined. Completely different, some would say, to the other boys' feature. Most especially to the old Hanamichi, they would think. No one would ever suspect that the brash basketball player and the cute transferee had any relation whatsoever. Even Yohei would not think that Hanamichi's shift to 'contentedly happy' mode was because of the blond sitting in front of him.

                Period after period, all was natural; they did not speak nor formally acknowledge each other, until lunch time came when the redhead was suppose to hang out with his gundan or practice basketball at the court.

                "Hanamichi!" Yohei called, clearing his desks and his things.

                Antoine stood up to leave the room, distracting Hanamichi for a while.

                "Y-yeah... what?"

                "C'mon. Let's hurry up before the others get impatient, or Takamiya's intestinal worms get impatient." Yohei chuckled as he bent down to grab his bag. "Let's go, Hanami--" He's gone. The black haired boy blinked and scratched his head.

                "Hanamichi?"

                "Marie...."

                Clear was the sky and air still. It was a good afternoon.

                "Ah! I hate it when you call me that." He smiled sweetly at his intruder. 

                The boy by the door laughed. "I know you do. I think I'm going to call you that from now on." He chuckled, trailing towards the shorter boy. 

                The latter frowned, stretching a hand that carries a rectangular package. "That is so annoying of you!"

                He grabbed the package from the dainty hand. "I know." Then he laughed.

                "Hana-chan!"

                But Hanamichi only smiled at him. "You never told me."

                "You never asked," Antoine prompted. "Besides I intended to surprise you."

                "Well, you did!" They both laughed.

                "It's nice here," Antoine exclaimed as he scanned the horizons of the rooftop.

                "And quiet too."

                The rooftop door suddenly opened much to Hanamichi's surprise. Antoine stood there relatively at ease, not caring a bit of the intrusion. It was some seconds before he fully realized the presence of the others. 

                "Hanamichi?" was Yohei startled gasps as he saw that the redhead was not alone. The three gundan came tagging along behind him.

                "Teme! What took you guys so long? I'm starving. C'mon!" Hanamichi blurted out while Antoine tailed him behind, ignoring the bewildered stares of the gundan.

                Throughout the lunch break, Antoine and Hanamichi conversed freely and lively. Usually they talked in cheery, sporadic outburst, things that do not seem to make sense at all. The gundan, most especially Yohei, almost dropped their lunch. They gaped as they listen to the two's excited conversation. Yohei couldn't comprehend his best friend's sudden change of tone, especially to someone whom he thought the redhead had met for the first time. Hanamichi was wholly different to look at. His smile, his laughter, his sweet voice, his glittering eyes; all these invokes a strong and pure emotion which altered drastically his whole being. There was something very pure and beautiful about the way he smiled at the blond boy.

                Antoine, on the other hand, floated in youthful grace. He was like a child, thoroughly happy with his beloved. Standing beside Hanamichi, he becomes more effeminate looking. Maybe because Hanamichi was more masculine in form than Antoine.

                Yohei felt a pang in his chest. The new student was drawing Hanamichi's attention from them. It was a complete shock for them. It was all too sudden: the coming of the transferee and Hanamichi's altered character. All too mysterious, it was, too suspicious.

                Since then, a peculiar affinity had transpired between the foreign transferee and Hanamichi. Gibrone could be seen with Hanamichi, standing nearby silently with a queer air. He would be at the basketball practice, on the bleachers, on the corner, by the door, near the gundan. Always there, silently watching, unnoticed, generally aloft to everyone. He was friendly in class. The girls adored him. Yet he closed himself to them in a way that only those with acute sensibilities could distinguish. 

                But everything's different with Hanamichi. To him, Antoine would be like a child, cuddly and adoring little Antoinette. And Yohei noticed it all. The way their eyes would light up; the way their surroundings would change; the way they look at everything and nothing simultaneously. It was as if they've known each other all their lives. Do they? Have they known each other? That was the only explanation for it. They could see that Hanamichi held Antoine in high pedestal. So the gundan automatically treated him well. 

                However, one peculiar hobby of the young blond was that he always have a camera at hand, whether video or digital or both. And always it contained footages of Hanamichi during lunch, basketball practice, or at any given chance.

                "I've a collection of Hanamichi's pictures," he once told the gundan when they inquired. "Some of them I got from footages."

                "Really?" Ookuso exclaimed in disbelief.

                "Hai. I even got his very first picture."

                He had other eccentricities in him. But it seems that Hanamichi knew them beforehand and had shrugged it off as something natural. Some people had noticed the awkward relationship of Antoine and Hanamichi. They call it bizarre and intriguing.

***

                The students expressed their gratitude through loud applause and presentation of gift of appreciation. Dr. Michelson casually stepped down the podium, only to be met by Mikiko-sensei.

                "Thank you very much for sharing your knowledge with the children." She gave him her hand which the university professor gratefully accepted.

                "You're very welcome, Mikiko-san. And thank you for giving me this chance to meet these brilliant students. It seems you train your children here in a different way."

                "Yes, we do," she replied. They were currently weaving through the throng of teenagers as they speak. "We make pride of that. By the way, Dr. Michelson, how is Liwette's genome assessment coming into?"

                "Oh, well I should say. It's coming along just fine. We've coordinated with other institutes here in Japan. Anyway, um, you have very interesting individuals here."

                "That is very flattering, Dr. Michelson. I heard that Yusenko graduates are quite exceptional in Liwette," the principal boasted.

                "Definitely. And as I've experienced with these students, majority of them would definitely excel in the university," he added, fidgeting slightly afterwards. "I'm a bit intrigued... For example-- that fascinating young man who came to me, he was rude but interesting."

                Mikiko frowned. "Oh dear! I'm afraid I didn't see any boy coming up to you today. I'm sorry--"

                "No, no! It was the boy who gave me the invitation. The one with red hair. I did not meet him today."

                "Oh, that prick!" Mikiko-sensei cursed unabashedly. "I'm sorry for Sakuragi Hanamichi's rudeness."

                "What's his name again?"

                "Sakuragi Hanamichi. He's one of the YSCEP qualifiers. A second year senior non-regular from Shohoku. I hope that you would forgive his misconduct." Mrs. Mikiko would have begged and kneeled for forgiveness if need be, but she didn't have to go that far.

                "Don't worry. I find him very fascinating despite is brashness. Nevermind that." He waved the topic aside. "I heard that Ms. Kubota is having some problems with her workload after her partner left Japan. Now, I was just wondering if you'd accept my help on that since I don't do much in the university and projects are not that aggravating."

                "Well, I think we could immediately arrange for that, Dr. Michelson. You would be much welcome."

-_-;; TBC

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(~_~;)

Blue6-Blood6]6 : bweheheheh!!! by now, i've written your bios so beware. nyahahahhaha!!! you can kill me now, if you see me. i said if.... i miss you too RA-sama. *sniff* and i'm sorry... NOT! you, ha... it's as if you don't know me, ha? 

(^_^ ); : need aspirin, kid? i'm having one to so... want one? (^_~;)

mischief14 : yaoi? go figure... bwehehehhe....

chibi-onna : ahhhh.... kawai, chibi-onna! kawai chibi-onna! 

Hirame : well, yeah the story's getting creepy and so is me...... WAIT A MINUTE!!!

Zackire : ah, yes.... i love my story too.... tehehehhe.... nah, thanks.... enjoy.

chris : easy, kid. don't blow you head off. you might be right, you might be wrong..... (^_^;)

keli : HanaRu? eh.................................................... that's quite complicated.... um, see ya.... e-he.

that's it... i'm done for. Nothing much here......what'll do next? hmmmmmmm...............

(@_@)  


	13. Insanity in the Family

****

WAAAAHHHHHH!!!! gomen, ppl!!! i am sooooooooooo late ^_^; i haven't even arranged this chapter yet, nor is it finish. i find it really hard to write during college. besides i'm having writer's block and my obsession w/ LoTR is slowing me down. to all the ppl out there, i'm really sorry. i'll try to amend whenever i can (whenever that is).... 

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Disclaimer: i disclaim you all!!!! Bwahahahaha!!!!!

Title : The Sakuragi Cousins

CHAPTER 12 : Insanity in the Family

He almost hated to go to the gym. There are too many inferior personalities in this school that he's even afraid that they might infect him of their shallow low life perspectives. From the first glimpse of the vicinity, he had disliked it. The boys were dull, nerdy, or despicable thugs; the girls, just the same, were dull, homely, bitchy or annoying; the teachers were extremely stupid. He hadn't met any worthwhile creature other than his cousin. Actually, he's been putting up with all these people only because of his cousin.

Ah, the things he'll do for love. Be hypocritical and disturbingly nice to these people. But despite the agony, it was all-satisfactory. He could watch Hanamichi's every move, be with him to make up for the lost time, and reclaim him from all. Yes, he would reclaim him.

Antoine has always hated everything or everyone near Hanamichi. Not in the sense that he harbors any hostile feelings towards the redhead. On the contrary, Antoine adored him so much, much much more than one could expect. His hate could be traced down to jealousy. Jealousy because somehow Shohoku had occupied a portion in the redhead's life. The fact that he has been in Shohoku for sometime and that it nurtured him seemed to insult the young boy. Commonly people revered certain things which had significantly became a part of their ones, a place, a certain thought or a book contributes to sentimentality. But in Antoine's case, he loathed Shohoku even from the very first moment he had known of it; and that hate passed on to everything related to it, to Shohoku. 

He crept in silently inside the gym. A girl whom he had politely dismissed cornered him a while ago, causing him to be a bit late. Hanamichi was warming up, ordinarily cheery and loud. Antoine could see clearly his bright face, so pure and pretty. 

Beside him by the door was the gundan. From the inner depths of his consciousness, he felt rage. No matter how much he suppress it, he'd inwardly have that violent rage. It took all his power not to show it. Somehow he has been successful. No one had suspected anything, none of his surmounting hate. All was falsified, his face, his acting perfect. They only thought of him as the silent type.

He hated the gundan. Hanamichi knew that and he had unmindfully tolerated Antoine's irrationality, as always, with the excuse that Antoine had surfacedly subdued it (but otherwise, he would have tolerated it nevertheless). Only they can comprehend the extent of their feelings. Too deep and too fatal to be dealt with.

Unfortunately, he has to bear with the gundan. They were Hanamichi friends. And the more reason for Antoine to hate them. Deeply he was burning with jealousy. He couldn't bear the fact that they've been with Hanamichi for some fucking years. How he abhor them with such contempt! He nearly wanted to slaughter them, though his hands couldn't move, knowing Hanamichi was there. Oh, the days when he could do his will without regarding Hanamichi's feeling. He marveled the days when eleven years ago, Hanamichi's supposed fiancée "accidentally" fell on the thirty-four-flight stair. She woke up days in the hospital and couldn't remember what happened, which was a relief in the part of the Sakuragi's. They knew the culprit and he never gave a damn. He was fairly happy then. He saw Hanamichi's face however and the sadness in his eyes startled him. Hanamichi was never angry with him; nevertheless, he was sad about the situation. That enforced sadness on him nearly killed Antoine's young heart. Consequently, he felt bad about it; bad not in the sense that he was sorry he did it to her, but he was deeply sorry it made Hanamichi sad. For nights he cried in bed, thinking himself awful with Hanamichi's sorrowful brown eyes etched in his head. In those same nights he thought of ways to atone for him. Maybe he could fall down the stairs himself and break his neck? Maybe he could beg and crawl for his cousin's forgiveness? Those were crazy sleepless nights full of childish thoughts that were hysterical in nature. From thereon, he had tamed his rage, thought he could not quell it to non-existence. They seem to get stronger than before, therefore he strengthens his efforts more to suppress it. He hides them all in a mask of familiar civility, haughtiness, or faked brashness. 

He watched Hanamichi with full adoration, ignoring the rest of the annoying people. He watched as Hanamichi dribbled, passed, shot, and acted his old self. Hanamichi was noisy as noisy can be. It amused Antoine; the rest cringed and disapproved.

Until the male monotonous tone disrupted the redhead's laughter.

"Do'aho."

"Teme!"

That was one disruption the blond hated the most, almost in well-restrained, murderous inclination. The focus zeroed-in on the raven haired basketball player, Rukawa Kaede. There are two main reasons why Antoine hated him. One is that Hanamichi dislike him. He's his archival. Two, Hanamichi notices him; this reason alone could cause Antoine to hate him severely. It did not matter to him that Hanamichi also dislike Rukawa and most would say vice versa. Only that he couldn't help but notice that Rukawa could stir his Hanamichi even to rage. Antoine could not accept the fact that anyone could hold Hanamichi's attention other than himself. He even calls him, ugh, _kitsune_! An unworthy no one be named as such is preposterous! Unforgivable! Though he could not blame his dear cousin. No, not in a million years! Antoine could never find fault in him. Never! All the faults fell on Rukawa, and immediately he saw red.

"Break, minna!" Ryota shouted after a laborious practice. Everyone dispersed off the court.

Hanamichi was wiping off his sweat, as he was the last to head the bench when a voice called him.

"Neh, Hana!" 

Antoine stood some feet beside him, holding an orange ball in his hand. "Let's play."

Captain Miyagi was gulping down a bottle of cold water when loud, fast thudding was heard, disrupting the relative silence.

Antoine headed to Hanamichi in light yet amazingly quick footwork. He turned around on his side to evade Hanamichi, and passing the redhead made a perfect jump shot that surprised the spectators. After that, things went fast forward. Hanamichi speedily got the ball and ran with that new unbelievable speed since he got out of the hospital, to the other side of the court. But surprisingly, the young transferee claimed to be Hanamichi's equal in speed. They dashed across the court, Hanamichi evading the blonde's tampering hands and mimicking his jump shot to earn himself a point. It was 3-3 as for the score.

Hanamichi smiled broadly, exhaustion fading his mind. Antoine is a great opponent even thought he had only started to play basketball some weeks ago. The blond was not one to care for a sport anyway; he would not care for anything unless it concerned him. Thought Hanamichi also knew that Antoine loathed the game itself, for the same reason he loved and loathed everything concerning him. He didn't know why he could tolerate Antoine's impertinent resentments, but he loves him nonetheless for it. Not in a way that lover's feel but in a more profound context of it. It is unexplainable for him and he would feel, just by looking at his cousin, a love that would want to burst from his chest.

Antoine got the ball. They played like no one's watching, displaying maneuvers quick and awesome to behold. As for Hanamichi, he played incredibly well, like he had played basketball for years. They didn't notice that everyone was watching them.

They defended and attacked vigorously at each other. As of fifteen minutes, the score was still 3-3. With the king of rebound bouncing off and Antoine who dared defy him, unfazed and determined, they ran the court back and forth, sweating yet laughing and smiling often.

The scene presented something pure an unnatural: Hanamichi laughing and talking as he dribbled the ball, and the other responding childishly and cheerily. They were playing seriously, simultaneously enjoying themselves. A child's play it seems to them, yet their movements conveyed a different message: nobody's going to stand against them in court.

There were deep eye contacts, partly for strategic on-the-court distraction, but mostly for something else as their eyes glittered with distinguishable excitement. Antoine dared to break forcefully through Hanamichi's defense, bravely aiming for an in-your-face dunk. Unfortunately, vertical defense is one of Hanamichi's domains. He merely swatted the ball from his hand and their next game continued to the other court. Hanamichi dashed off almost like lightning, and in a split second, with Antoie merely inches behind, he delivered a humble lay-up for a finale.

5-3.

"No fair!" the blond immediately spat out, not even stopping for a breath after the chase. "You're faster than I."

Hanamichi's smile was from ear to ear. "Want a rematch?"

"No way!" He just laughed, not looking exhausted at all. The same goes for Hanamichi who stared up at the hoop pleasantly.

Miyagi and the rest were dumbfounded; it was in this state that Hanamichi saw them.

"Oi, Ryochin! What are you gawking at? It's not like Ayako's naked, man!"

Miyagi snapped out and stared at Ayako.

SLAP! SLAP! said Mr. Paperfan merrily.

"Nyahahahaha! That's stupid, Ryochin!"

SLAP! SLAP! again Mr. Paperfan. You seem to be happy today. :p

Nursing his lump, Hanamichi sat himself on the bench with Antoine tailing behind him, handing him a bottle of Gatorade.

"Here, drink. Are you alright?"

"My skull is still intact so I guess I'm alright." He smiled again at him, a habit that was becoming really unnatural for other people to see.

Antoine looked at Ayako and slightly cursed the bitch to hell, together with the entire carbon-based entity insight. Inwardly, simultaneous with a pleasant outward form, he raged at the maltreatment Hanamichi was getting from these people. The nerve of them! What sort of thinking they have in these parts? Do they always bring down those people who are different from them?   
How disgusting!

But they do not matter anyway because from now on, Hanamichi will never be alone. He promise he will give his everything to him. Hanamichi looked up at him brilliantly, with the same fond expression he'd flash for him since then. 

***

He walked along with Antoine on a quiet track to home. He had wittingly dismissed the gundan a while ago, but not without questions arising. Antoine had not been with him then, only when he had parted with the gundan did he spot the young boy inside a confectionery shop. Antoine had bought some sweets for their own leisure, including junk foods an other edible stuff. He had also shopped for some clothes and accessories to which he was wont to do. It would be sometime now when he would drag Hanamichi to the awkwardness of beau monde not usual of the present time and society. 

They came home and immediately prepared supper. They cooked whatever they could think of, teasing merrily while at it. Thai rice, glazed pork, muffins with strawberry jam and cream, chips from Antoine's bags, cup noodles, sodas, chocolates, and anything they could grab and find. Until they felt bloated and giddy did they stop to quit the kitchen and head for bed.

***

_Sound of porcelain vase hitting the floor resounded._

Strands of yellow locks on the floor.

A woman beautiful but with undeniably insane eyes stalked to them.

She hated them.

He could feel it, her violent rage....

Which never came, it never did....

Hannah...

Ezekeil...

Antoinette...

***

Hanamichi woke up, sweat mingling with fear. He groped for Antoine beside him. Beside him lay his angel and devil. Thus the nightmare became a trifle of the mind. He looked closely at the sweet childlike figure. The moon rays glided smoothly on his cheeks. Devil or angel, it did not matter. His tolerance prior to Antoine is greatly alarming to others. The boy could draw him to his very best or drag him to his worst and Hanamichi knew he must have a check on it before it consumes them. He loves the young boy therefore he must see to his welfare.

"Oniichan..." Antoine whispered to him sleepily.

Gently, Hanamichi held his hand and went back to sleep.

***

Terano Maya came like a bad wind from the west, strutting down all the way to Yusenko with her snub nose and bad sense of hairstyle. She was airy and annoying, blabbering out to everyone that she's Vanessa Loswell's cousin.

"Excuse me," came a haughty tone. "I'm Terano Maya and I'm Vaness Loswell's cousin. do you know where she is?"

The student stopped, staring somehow surprised at the orange and pink chiffon tresses cut in Parisian style 'thing' on which the person was wearing. She smiled condescendingly presuming that her kinship awed the student rather than her eye-straining form (though in fact, it was her form and it was not awe that the unlucky student felt).

"Gomen nasai," the student said after blinking off the headache due to the blunt colors. "But I don't know where sempai is."

"Oh, really." Maya cocked a pencilled (and obviously non-existing) brow. "Well then, if you find her tell her Maya, her cousin, is here." She strutted once again after emphasizing the word 'cousin'. After a handful of declarations and questions to some quietly passing students, Maya finally located Vanessa. She was in the Environmental Science laboratory, testing the mercuric level of a sample from the river near a mining facility. It was reported that Minamata cases appeared in the district near the river. 

From the instant Maya cooed in, Vanessa felt deeply annoyed. She had always disliked her brainless second cousins (well, not all but the most of them were irritatingly dumb and un-Sakuragi-like). They always act as if they hold the family title. They usually tend to be exceedingly arrogant as if they have every right to do so. What's worst about Maya is that she's such a leech, and she has the tendency to blab things mindlessly. The latter option is the most dangerous and disturbing among her character.

"Well, well, well, dear cousin!" she started. Vanessa felt her right brow twitching.

"Good morning, Terano-san! It's a surprise to see you here." It was Meimei. She was in the lab putting the inputs on the computer data sheets.

"Sutoshi-san, can you please leave the two of us alone?" Maya replied rudely, sounding like a command more than a request. Van was definitely going to snap at her when Meimei cut her to it.

"Ok, if that's what you want." She turned to Van and smiled calmly. "I'll go check out the new species in the Marine Lab. I'll see you later." She bowed to Maya. "Nice to see you again, Terano-san. Please excuse me." Then Meimei left. 

"What is it that you want?" Van wasn't about to waste time, particularly not with Maya. She placed the test tube back in the rack and reclined in her seat.

"Is that the proper way to greet your cousin?"

"Can it, Maya. I've other more important things to do."

"And so I've heard." That didn't sound good to Van's ears. "It seems the whole family's busy. Mind if I know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she told her squarely. Van swiveled her chair towards the compute and continued Meimei's work on the database.

"Why, the nerve!"

They were always scandalous, Van thought, sighing mentally. She didn't dare look at Maya or else she'll probably laugh out of sheer pity. HA!

"Do you seriously think you can keep your little secret? I'm also a part of the clan and I have the right to know. Vanessa Loswell, your arrogance is exceedingly annoying!"

Look who's talking. Van continued the database as she heard the loud bang of the door. And now she's left to clear the mess. The phone rang beside her and she immediately picked it up. It was some seconds before she began to respond.

"So the species are ok and quite good. That's interesting." A smile flitted on her rosy lips as she listened to the voice of Meimei.

***

"I called for a meeting because I want to inform you of some updates regarding the IH. I hope you've all heard about Yusenko High."

"Eh? What about Yusenko?" Ayako prompted to Coach Anzai. This was strangely new to her.

"So I see. You don't know yet. Very well," he continued to address the team. "Yusenko is preparing their own basketball team and they might join the upcoming IH for the first time."

"Really? We've another obstacle to overcome, don't we, Coach?" Ryota said.

"But they're just new anyway. There's nothing to be afraid of." One rookie commented. 

"Probably. But the more we have to be careful still. Since it's a new team, we don't know yet their capacity," Ichiro explained.

Coach Anzai nodded to this. "That is right. Yusenko is actually having something new in their play. They've included both girls and boys in their team. The IH committee had approved of this since last school year given that their entry is only for experimental purpose, and that their wins and loses could not be accounted for."

"Eh? That's really odd. What are they trying to achieve anyway?" Yasuda blurted. The team was really surprised at the news.

"What??!!" Ryota screamed incredulously. "They've got girls in their team! That's just lame!"

SLAP! said happy Mr. Paperfan. "And just what the hell are you coming at?! You forget I'm a girl to!" Ayako was actually puzzled, but her female pride stood out at least.

"It's not really that lame as you think it is, Miyagi-kun," Coach Anzai smiled at his ignorance. "Have you heard about what happened to Shindomitsu of Kobe last week?" Ayako must have been the only one who has heard of it as she scowled at the mention of it. Though in fact, she had only heard that something went wrong with the team of Shindomitsu last week but as to what it is, she does not have a whit of idea. 

"They had an early encounter with the Yusenko training team, the team consisting of both girls and boy. There were four girls and a single boy from Yusenko who competed with Shindomitsu." 

"How can they possibly defeat Shindomitsu? They were the tenth in the whole Japan last year," Kogure intervened. Akagi and Mitsui were also there.

"Ah, but Kogure-kun, Yusenko won. It was 113-47. The vice-captain of Yusenko was really fantastic," Anzai-sensei dreamily recalled. 

There was a collective shock. "He must be one helluva guy," Miyagi muttered.

"Actually, the vice-captain is a girl." Everyone was stunned. "She was extremely good under the basket much like Akagi-kun. In fact, she seems to be as tall as Akagi-kun and also the same built."

Thinking of a girl who looks like that of Akagi made them all a bit green. Coach Anzai was thankful that Akagi didn't pass Yusenko, or else it would be a dreadful thing for the team if Shohoku were to face Yusenko. But then again, there is Sakuragi, he thought gravely. "Though their captain weren't there and they came in unsupported, they proved to be very lethal in court. Therefore, I implore you to get serious in your practice. Yusenko team may not count as point in the actual IH but our integrity and skill as a team lay in their hands."

There was silent nodding from the team.

Ayako resolutely clapped her hands. "Well, minna! Let's get on with practise!" 

"YOSH!" Anzai-sensei nodded to them.

"Hey, where's Sakuragi?" Ichiro suddenly asked while everyone dispersed gradually. It was true. The redhead was nowhere to be found. 

Anzai-sensei calmly responded. "Don't worry, Mizusawa-kun." He did not know why Sakuragi had kept it from them but he respects his decision. Nevertheless, it puzzled him. He did not know any special details regarding Yusenko. Yes, Coach Anzai had known some of the mild details, yet refused to give anything. Let the boy do his will. "He is excused today." Anzai-sensei said no more. 

***

"Tadaima!" 

Antoine had asked him to skip practice that day. He didn't want to actually but Antoine's urgent voice made him consider otherwise. 

To his surprise, there were boxes in the living room. Quite a lot of them in different sizes. From the distinguishable mark on each boxes, all of these must have come from the same company. Out from the kitchen, Antoine sprung. 

"Hello! Surprise! Haha! It just came a while ago."

"What are these?"

Antoine deftly picked up a small rectangular box. "A computer set. It's a new model provided by the Circle. It's for you." _Circle_ is another name for the whole Code 7 unit. Code 7 is not only the seven of them alone. It is a whole unit consisting of support personnel and chief supervisors. The seven of them were just the main, or experimental factor. "Let's set it up."

They carried the boxes to the private den since Hanamichi's room would be too inappropriate for it. Along with the components were instructional guides and computer books. Hanamichi had only known about computers for some short while. Thus assembling it all alone would cause quite a confusion. Thankfully, Antoine who is more or less knowledgeable of the machinery was able to help him, add up the books they have. They got it working not for long. While taking dinner in front of the computer, Antoine gradually introduced the redhead to the net. Hours afterwards, he was exceedingly getting the hang of it. Twilight came and he was linked to an illegal gamer site. It was already noon of the next day when he decided to disconnect from the net. 

------------------------------------------------

-_-;;;;TBC 

there will be a chapter 12.5 i guess so hang on..... i'll edit this by that time.


	14. Author's Note

Authors Note :

I know, I've not been uploading this fic for sometime now. Call it writer's block if you want, but maybe it is. Though somehow I'm still determined to finish this. I'm planning to reassess the whole fic this time but it'll surely take me long. But since it's summer and I've summer class :( i guess i could do it. Again i'll take me long. Hopefully you'll have patience to put up with me. I'm going to clear out inconsistencies, as well as, style. I dunno..... neway.... ummm... that's pretty much of it. :p thank ppl for the reviews and your support.... 


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